Substitute Teacher Trick
--The Gym
"Leaving early?"
Andrea looked up from her shoelaces. Her eyes, yellow and frigid, pierced the boy like daggers. He visibly flinched back, looking down and clinging to his mop's handle as if it would hold him up.
"Fuck's it to you, fag?" she asked, her tone bland although her words were vicious. "What, you want me out of here?"
"I didn't say anything like that," the boy with the mop said, and he tried to go on cleaning up the locker room.
The big white tiger grabbed him by the shoulder. Her claws pricked him through his jersey, but he knew better than to scream when there were still patrons in the gym. "No, huh? All right. Good boy." She smooched him on top of the head and remembered how she liked the way he took care of his hair; his blond locks were always soft and bouncy, and they often had a tropical scent. Today's smell was a hint of coconut. "Don't worry, boy. Ashleigh is gonna be by soon, she'll wear your cunt out in my absence. Aren't I just so considerate?"
"Mmh," he grunted.
"Aren't I?" Her claws sunk in further and he began to whine.
"You're considerate, you're very considerate," the boy eagerly agreed.
Andrea let him go, smacked his ass, growled at him hungrily. "And tell that dingbat not to come lookin' for me, either. I gotta teach gym at the high school and I do not need that fucking mongoloid coming to find me there. You got it?"
"Yeah, I understand."
"That's a good boy, Desmond," she said with surprising sweetness. "Hey, and if Ash says her balls itch again, what do you do?"
Desmond groaned impatiently. "I lick them."
"And what do you not do?"
"I don't tell her she should take a bath," the boy sighed. "Even if she smells like a dumpster."
Andrea laughed. "She's a fucking hyena, smelling like trash is all she's got." The tiger left, and Desmond enjoyed the hour of silence he had before Ashleigh showed up, smelly and hung over and extremely horny as usual.
--Ms. Andrea Prinze, substitute teacher
Squeaking sneakers and glib chatter echoed in the gymnasium. Teenagers bounced, hopped, and skipped along carelessly, some of them dribbling basketballs, some skipping ropes. A few had found the hula hoops used in the dance class, and they twirled them around their hips with varying degrees of success. Others were just bullshitting, gossiping about members of the opposite sex and making up dirty rhymes about hated teachers. Andrea hated school ambiance, but she appreciated the Pine-Sol smell of a clean basketball court, and oh, how she loved to frighten children.
The burly white tiger, dressed in gym shorts and a jet-black sports bra, stepped out under the northern basketball hoop and blew her coach whistle, earning reluctant attention from the kids. A hula hoop clattered to the floor and a basketball, left unattended, bounced despondently into the folded seats.
"All right, kids, I'm your substitute teacher, Andrea Prinze. You can just call me Ms. Andrea because I fu-," she bit her tongue and suddenly thought less of herself for being so casually vulgar, "because I'm a little more comfortable that way, and I think what we all need is to be comfortable with each other. Sound good?"
A murmur of agreement warbled through the spacious room. Andrea took a good look around, scanning the faces she'd be dealing with for the next hour. Typical dumbass teens, she thought, suppressing a smirk. Every one of these fucks - doomed. Just fuckin' doomed. All of 'em are soft pussies, I bet.
She tooted her whistle again, unnecessarily. "I believe, kids," she began to strut slowly back and forth under the net, moving with the pace and speaking with the cadence of a captain about to send a whole platoon to die, "that a body in motion tends to stay in motion. That's basic physics, for those of you who aren't familiar. Well, it applies to PE, too! So I wanna see some jumping jacks, all of you, nothing too demanding. Maybe twenty jerks each to-."
The snicker may as well have been a gunshot to Andrea's sharp ears. Her eyes fell immediately on the lanky, dopey wolf in the middle of a pack of smirking, but silent boys of various species. "Something funny to you, Stretch?" she asked, souring the wolf's expression. The others cowed, drifting away from their friend. "Twenty jerks for the others, forty for you, buddy. Maybe we'll put some muscles on that skinny body, give 'em a chance to catch up with your right arm."
The kids laughed. It was brief because nobody else wanted Ms. Andrea's direct attention, but it put them on the substitute teacher's side. She allowed them their giggling, and then she tooted her whistle again. "All right, all right! Get to it! Twenty jerks, keep track, I'll know if you're lying! You, Stretch, get to it. Forty jerks!"
Andrea watched, personally, as the wolf tried to get through his jumping jacks. The other kids goofed and cut it short behind her back, and this she expected; she didn't even mind. All she wanted was her paycheck, and to make the wolf suffer for laughing at her the same way she had laughed at the word when she first heard it in the same context. "That wasn't forty jumping jacks, your feet weren't even off the ground for most of them!"
"It-, it was forty," the wolf said, panting hoarsely. His tongue dangled past his chin, leaving specks of drool on his shirt.
"Pah, you lazy kid," Andrea scoffed. "Gimme ten more!"
And he did - barely. Andrea counted them off, making as much a spectacle of him as she could. When he finally got to ten, he was so wasted that he sat on the floor with a bump and stared at his sneakers.
The tiger turned around, smiling with satisfaction. She perused the sweating faces all around her... and then she looked at the black bear who had moved near. He had not exercised at all, it seemed. He hadn't even pretended to exercise like some of the kids had done. His fur was dry and unruffled, and he was smiling politely.
"Sup with you, kid? You too good for jumping jacks?" she asked tartly.
A few of the kids snickered, but not at Andrea's words.
"Actually, Ms. Andrea, can I talk to you about that? Over here? Just for a second?"
"Like, I guess so? Maybe? If it's like, super impo-o-ortant?" Andrea replied, cruelly mimicking the boy's questioning, near-valley girl tone of voice. She let him lead her to the edge of the gym and called back loudly, "Buddy up! We're doing some wrasslin' when I get back!"
The boy stopped with Andrea out of earshot of the other kids. He smiled at her knowingly. "Ms. Andrea, hi. My name's Brett. Brett Kushner?"
"Great for you, Brett. Y'know, I bet even someone with a tubby butt like yours could manage twenty jumping jacks," Andrea said patronizingly.
Brett frowned. "No way. See, I had this deal with Mr. Vanwell - he's our normal PE teacher, big Great Dane dude, right? - and the deal was like, I do some favors for him and in exchange, he lets me just kinda... hang back, but I still get a passing score." The black bear smiled. "You get me?"
Andrea sneered, killing Brett's smile. "Jesus, kid. Are you telling me you sucked his dick?"
"Duh," Brett replied, folding his arms. "I suck dick better than his wife. S'what he says, anyway." He shrugged. "So just, hey, go ahead and gimme a good mark for today, and nobody's gonna think any different of-."
"Suck mine," the tiger said bluntly. "I'm packing. And don't you look at me like that. If guys can have pussies, chicks can have dicks. Let's you and me go back by the ball cage and you can be my little honeypot, Kushner." She snickered. "Or is it weird when it's a girl's dick?"
Brett looked furtively around, as if the other kids didn't know he blew Mr. Vanwell on a nearly daily basis. "Gawd, fine, all right. Just keep your voice down."
Andrea tooted her whistle again. "Uh, do more jumping jacks or somethin'!" she shouted. "I'm gonna go and-, I gotta help Kushner put on his jockstrap!"
Laughter followed Brett and Andrea into the back room where the ball cage, water heater, and cleaning supplies were stationed. The bear leaned heavily on the wall inside and groaned like the fussy teenage bitch he was. "Gawd, did you have to make it so obvious?"
"Oh, shut up, like they _don't_know you suck off your teachers. I bet you'd look like a porcupine if you had as many dicks sticking out of you as you've had stuck in. How many of your classmates you do?" She shoved down her gym shorts, and she was not lying to the boy; her cock was fat, black, and uncircumcised.
The exceptionally gay bear slurped his jowly lips at the sight of Andrea's penis. "Um," he muttered, "I dunno, like... most of them. The boys, I mean." His blue eyes met Andrea's quickly. "You're gonna give me a good mark for this, right?"
Andrea suddenly and hungrily grabbed his ass cheeks, crimping down on the thick hemispheres with strong fingers. The bear moaned and rose to his tip-toes briefly. "Oh, yeah, I'll give you a good mark. Nice white stripe across your cheek."
"Ms. Andrea-," Brett started to fuss.
"Fucking shut up, kid, I'll give you an A plus or one-hundred percent or a smiley sticker, whatever the fuck it is they give you dumbass kids now. Lemme see that booty, though, feels a hell of a lot more interesting than your mouth looks."
Brett scowled, but his cheeks were red. "I don't do anal. Not casually."
She laughed in his face. "Schoolyard buttslut with standards? That's a rare breed. All right, Kushner - open up those beautiful black lips and gimme a sucky-sucky. You better work quick or I'm gonna have those other boys running a train on your faggot ass."
The bear didn't get a lot of choice in the matter. Andrea took his shoulders and thrust him to the floor, his knees bumping the tile painfully. He started to bitch, getting as far as "Hey!" before Andrea pulled his prettyboy face into her flaccid, sweaty cock. Her musky scent enticed his nose, but he played up his offense. "Ugh, gawd... Mr. Vanwell's dick never smells like this..."
"I doubt Mr. Vanwell sees half the action I do. What you're smelling is prime, seasoned dick, buttboy, so you better fucking enjoy it." She cackled. "Hey! You lick assholes too?"
"No way," Brett huffed, lying to the tiger, whom he hated to admit he really liked right now. "Can we just get this over wi-i-ith?"
"You're the one flapping your jaws," Andrea snapped. "Get to fluffin' and suckin'! It's not gonna blow itself."
Brett wanted to argue but couldn't. "Yeah-, well! Yeah." His soft, gay paws grasped Andrea's flaccid cock. His mere touch caused the flesh to tense and begin to grow. He rocked back on his knees and lifted the tiger's dark meat to his lips. A soft, gentle kiss to the glans, yet hidden by the hood of her foreskin, coaxed a purr from her.
"That's good," Andrea said, gently. "Th'atta boy... you got a nice ass, kiddo, bet your mama bear's something to look at."
"I guess she is," Brett stiffly said. "If you like a chubby midlife crisis-in-progress who does yoga."
"Christ, that any way to talk about your mom?" the tiger asked, bewildered and disgusted. "Show a little respect, ya' fag."
The bear tensed and huffed. "Yes. Sorry. I'm sorry, um-." He played with Andrea's meat, at a loss for words. It swelled in his fingers, growing fat and hot as blood filled its porous vessels and veins. Soon a bead of precum began to ooze from the pucker of the foreskin, which had not yet yielded to her stiffening glans.
Andrea stroked through Brett's short, trendy hair, thinking to herself as the blue-tipped coif sprung up under her digits, if my boy colored his hair like that, I'd yank his tail right the fuck off. Faggoty shit. Looks cute on this little cocksucker, though.
"Mmm, you're getting really hard," Brett cooed - his lame attempt at sexy talk, Andrea thought. "Hm, maybe you want to screw me after all...?" he asked, looking up at her with hopeful, blue eyes which were almost angelic in their prettiness.
"Shaddup and suck it, you had your chance for anal earlier," she bluntly answered.
Brett, pouting adorably, took the tiger past his plump, black jowl-lips and spotless teeth. Her cock filled out the wide cavern of his ursine mouth, and his tongue was a pink velvet carpet welcoming its underside, tantalizing the tiger with its texture unique from the rest of his gay young maw. Quietly, whorishly, he moaned. His eyes drifted shut and his small, eager penis tented his gym shorts as little more than a bump.
"Aw, god, that's the stuff," the tiger whined, grinning nearly ear to ear. Her tail swished through the air. "G'boy, Kushner, very good boy," she sighed, and threw back her head. Her brunette hair whipped behind her and dangled between her shoulder blades. "Ah, and to answer your earlier-, well, whatever the fuck you said. Horny moms in yoga pants equals yes please. If your mom's got even half the butt you do, I wanna smash that."
Why not, everyone else smashes her, Brett sourly thought. He decided not to focus on the fact that his mom was such a bicycle, and focused on this very tasty dick instead. Andrea's penis had a certain grime and grunge that other penises did not; she wasn't filthy, but she wasn't utterly sanitized, either. Mr. Vanwell obsessed over penile cleanliness and therefore had the most inoffensive smell imaginable, but Andrea was raunchy and tart, tasting to Brett like a real man, and the irony wasn't lost on him.
His paws stroked and groped the remainder of her cock as he suckled the foremost inches. He lavished the glans with his tongue, stealing away the sweat and nearly congealed precum which lingered beneath the foreskin, a substance often ignored except by the most obsessive dick-washers. Brett found her middling hygiene disgusting and thrilling at the same time. He loved how real she was, even as she offended his senses.
Soon Brett began to give Andrea his best work. He bobbed and sucked, but he also twisted and turned, varying where exactly the burly tiger felt the textures of his mouth. His good work paid off when Andrea started to huff and purr and mrowl. For the moment she palmed her own thick ass, gripping her fat cheeks as if holding them helped her concentrate on the bear's sissy mouth.
"Shi-i-it, kiddo, work the balls," Andrea mewled, grinning up at the paneled ceiling, her eyes clenched shut in bliss. As Brett obliged her, palming and rubbing her thick, white nuts, she let out a happy sigh. "That's-, aw, god, that's so good. You're doing god's work here, Kushner. Fuck me, kid, you're good."
Like you're the first grown-up to say that to me, the bear snippily thought. He reached down from her sweaty scrotum to touch himself, but it was only a little tweak. Had Andrea seen it, she would have definitely joked that he was touching his clit.
Slowly, but worrisomely to Brett all the same, Andrea closed her paws around his head. At first she started to restrict his movements, and then she began moving her hips to make up for it. It was nice for Brett in the beginning; the slutty boy cooed, touching himself freely while the tiger did the work. Then he began to worry as Andrea bucked harder, quicker, making her balls swat his chin. He tried to paw at her belly and let her know that he was not okay with this but the tiger ignored him, and soon she was going faster still, panting now, outright fucking his young face like he was an inflatable fuck toy.
Brett had never been facefucked before. Just like Andrea's wonderfully foul taste and smell, being fucked in the mouth was both a fun and unsettling experience. He went back to touching himself, and now he managed to coax a bead of precum through the fabric of his jockstrap and shorts. He pinched at the head of his penis, gripping it over and over in thumb and forefinger, masturbating in this limited way to great effect.
"Aw, yeah. Yeah, ye-e-eah," Andrea yowled, grinning and huffing, fucking Brett Kushner's young muzzle unrepentantly. Her balls spanked his chin. Sweat caked her fur, running down her fur in rivulets between the follicles. She pawed at herself, sweeping up her sports bra so her heavy breasts wobbled out into view. More sweat dripped from their curves, pattering upon Brett's faggoty hair and broad, black muzzle.
"I'm gonna dump my fucking nuts down your throat, Kushner. You better fuckin' swa-a-allo-o-ow, 'cause this is good shit you're about to get," said Andrea, never losing an ounce of her confidence even balls-deep in a teenager's very illegal face. "Shit-shit-shit, shi-i-it," she hissed, going on and on, fucking him even as tears welled in his eyes. Saliva slopped down his chin and dripped onto her nuts, mingling with the sweat already there to make a soupy, musky slop.
Andrea was a good fuck and an enduring lover, but Brett Kushner's was a very fine mouth, and of course there were all the taboos she was breaking. It was impossible not to think of how incredibly wrong it was that she was facefucking a boy who she was supposed to be educating in the arts of unnecessary sweatiness and rope burns. She wondered what the boy's mom would think; what would happen if one of the students or faculty came in; what her friends would think if they knew she'd gone and fucked a fifteen-year-old. It was worrisome, and it was thrilling. She slammed her hips into his face, smashing but not permanently injuring his broad nose.
Over Kushner's soft whimpers, Andrea erupted. She wasn't buried in his throat but he guzzled her cum down as if it were an automatic response. Slobber ran down his chin like glaze, but not a single drop of her salted spunk escaped his mouth. He was devoted to the craft of cocksucking even in these trying times, and Andrea's slop was no less special than any other.
"Shi-i-it... damn, kid," Andrea said, sighing and snickering, feeling amazed at what she'd just done. Her paws slipped away from Brett's head and laced behind her neck, under her hair. "That was fun. I enjoyed breaking some laws just now."
Brett pulled back slowly, catching the dregs of Andrea's orgasm along the way. This, too, was swallowed down eagerly. When her black meat was out of his mouth, he held its softening flesh up and gave it another kiss, echoing the first real attention he had given it. "Mmh, yeah, that was pretty good as far as blowjobs go. So, um, listen, how about we say I sprained my ankle and-."
"Christ, you're talking about that shit again already?" Andrea moaned. Because it seemed like such a perfect opportunity to do such a thing, she grabbed her softening dick by the base and swung it, mushroom slapping Brett with perfect form. The bear's startled yip made her laugh. "Always wanted to do that. You're a little shit, Kushner."
Wiping his cheek, Brett groused, "That was the whole reason we did this. Come on."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," Andrea said, dismissing him. She pulled her shorts back over her crotch and put away her tits under her sports bra. "Just-, yeah, whatever. Sit it out, say you got testosterone poisoning or something."
As the sissy bear stood up and started for the door, Andrea simply couldn't keep her eyes off his jiggling behind. "Hold up, Kushner," she said firmly.
Brett, with his paw on the doorknob, groaned and looked back. "Yes?"
"You want a good mark?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "You, me. Anal after school. Skip the bus and meet me here. I'll drive you home after."
The bear's expression seemed unreadable to Andrea, but his eyes were springs of hopeful lust. "Um... you got lube?" he asked. His attempt to sound condescending came across as sheepish.
Andrea, who had no such thing on her, smiled blithely. "Yeah, I got lube." She followed him out, and the class went on as normal. Brett sat on a folding chair near the head of the court, occasionally feigning pain in his ankle.
--After School
The white tiger watched through the small, grimed window as the students boarded the buses and left, with the nerdier children lingering near the bus stop for their parents to come collect them. Her tail swished, tick-tocking back and forth with the steadiness of a metronome but the fluidity of a dancing cobra. She was half-hard in her sweat-soaked gym shorts. Her hair was as wet as if she had showered, turning its vibrant brown into a darker, more chocolate shade.
A tiny click from the doorknob caught her attention. She turned and saw Brett on his way in. Unlike earlier, he was dressed in street clothes. The skinny jeans which seemed to strangle his fat ass, she approved of. The white t-shirt with a curved rainbow and LGBTQ+ beneath it was a bit much for her.
"You must get wedgied, like, nonstop," Andrea said, slipping down her shorts before he even closed the door. "LGBT shit? That's like a kick me sign."
"Gay rights are important to me," Brett said using a haughty let me educate you, foolish adult tone which all teenagers thought they were masters of. "Getting picked on sometimes is nothing, do you know what happens to gay people in other parts of the world?" As he said this, he looked at her penis.
Andrea patted his head patronizingly. "Yeah, yeah, I watch the news. Word of advice, kid - enjoy your goddamn childhood. You're way too young to be getting political. Now, show me them ass cheeks."
"Said the hebephile," Brett replied, sneering. He opened his fly quickly.
"I'm a what, you little turd?"
"Means someone who wants to screw teenagers," the bear explained as he slipped down his jeans. His black behind was wide and feminine, which Andrea could see even from the front. "Pow, you just learned something from a kid. Guess you don't know everything after all."
"Pow, you're about to get made into a fuckin' handpuppet if you don't ditch the tone," Andrea shot back. "Now bend the fuck over. Either grab your ankles or grab some wall, we're about to gouge that ass."
Brett Kushner groaned. "Fine, whatever. You're the boss," he said. The shapely teenager leaned against the ball cage, slotting his fingers through the chain links. There he stood, pants around his ankles, thick black ass perked for Andrea's inspection and use. A tan seam ran through the crack of his ass, covering his perineum and his balls too, just like it did on his muzzle.
"Mhm, I'm the boss," Andrea said absently, watching with hunger as Brett made himself prone. She dragged her tongue across her plump lips, and a needful shiver of excitement raced up her spine. "Gawd, that's one fine ass," she hissed, falling to her knees.
"Um, what're you doing?" Brett coquettishly asked. A smile twisted up the corners of his mouth.
Andrea grinned. "We-e-ell, remember when I said I had lube? I totally don't," she admitted, and gripped his plump, gay ass in her paws. Each cheek was a handful even for her meaty size. "I'm gonna lube you up the old-fashioned way, buttboy. We're goin' in with nothing but slobber and wishes."
Brett began to say something about how spit was never a very good lube when the tigress pried apart his cheeks and bared his tight, pink pucker to the air of the storage room. He winced, and his pucker winked at her. Before he could try again to speak his mind, the dickbitch slopped her rough, broad tongue across his anus and he crooned, rising to his tip-toes in a brief display of pleasure.
"Fat-assed little punk," Andrea huffed, her snout down in his ass crack. "You smell good, kid. You smell real good." She slurped again, laying down a carpet of slobber with her textured tongue. Its mild roughness made the bear whimper in a good way. "Like that kitty-cat tongue, huh? You like it a lot, don't you, ya' little faggot?" she asked, and went in for another lap, and another. She started to tonguelash his asshole, and his whimpers and croons answered her questions.
The tiger's dark cock throbbed below, dribbling on the scuffed tile. She tweaked it, drawing a shudder from herself. Slowly she pulled back from Brett's dampened behind, but she kept his ass cheeks pried apart. His pucker glistened under an uneven coating of drool.
"Be honest with me, you little fuck. You ever taken it in the butt before?"
"Duh," Brett huffed. "And are you gonna do it anytime soon? I have a lot of homework to do."
She stood up briskly, still a limber and energetic woman despite the beginning of her middle age putting some extra curves on her. "You only fuck the gym teacher?" she asked, and bumped her ebony cock into his deep, warm ass crack. She thought about hotdogging him, but she remembered how vulnerable she was here. The janitor could come in for his mop and bucket and catch her in the middle of porking one of the kids. What then? The little shit would toss her under the bus, and she'd have to join the sex offender registry. Better to move things along quickly, spare the foreplay.
Brett said, in a shaken tone as Andrea butted her cockhead to his puckered anus, "All my other teachers are women."
The tiger let a short, cruel laugh out into the room. "Right, I forgot, your skin scorches on contact with pussy. Fuckin' faggot."
"Cocksucker and proud of it," Brett said defiantly, repositioning himself somewhat. His back had gotten very stiff. "Are you gonna-?"
"Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up," Andrea barked, wrapping a paw around Brett's short snout. Without giving it a lot of thought, she crammed two fingers into his mouth, mashing down his tongue and twisting his jowly lips. The bear boy began to whine, but suck, and Andrea smirked.
The substitute teacher pressed into Brett, opening the spit-sheened pucker of his asshole around her blunt, black meat. The bear whimpered for her, the sound muffled around her digits. His rounded ears splayed and the ball cage creaked under his squeezing fingers. "So bi-i-ig," he bleated, the words mushy and loose with his tongue encumbered.
Brett Kushner opened up for her whether he wanted to or not. His velvet insides gripped her protestantly, but the drool she pushed into him helped, smoothing her along just well enough that the bear actually started to enjoy himself. His uncut, pink penis left droplets of precum on the floor. "Mmn, gawd," he said around her digits.
Andrea tugged her fingers, dragging their pads across his teeth and smearing drool on his cheek. Her muscular, masculine paw slid down around his neck and she lingered there, holding but not squeezing, as she thought how perfect it would be to grope his neck until he squirmed and convulsed and ultimately clenched down. Fucking a kid was one thing, of course. His mother probably expected him to come home crusty with jizz, but bruises were another story. Her mitt slid down his body, over his faggoty shirt, down around his hips. She pulled him in tight finally, mashing her hips to his tubby ass.
Burying herself to the hilt always put a grin on Andrea's face. She said through this grin, "Gonna give you a good mark for today, kiddo, I sure as fuck am."
"Oh, please do," Brett whined, yet Andrea didn't think he really cared that much about the grade anymore. "God, you're big," he reiterated. "I had-, I had a horsey once, he was a big guy, but I only sucked him off."
The thought of Brett with a fat horsecock down his throat made Andrea smile wanly. Her hips began to move, what seemed like an automatic reaction, but she took command of the rhythm and started to buck eagerly. She gazed down past her thick tits and watched her cock sliding in and out of the bear's little pink anus. She loved everything about this scene, especially how small he was against her, but what did it for her most was that it was her big, black cock ruining his tiny, pink pucker. That chromatic domination thrilled her, making her tail twitch and dance while her cock throbbed. She loved the powerful, black meat she had been blessed with.
"I am gonna nut in your fucking ass, you dick-slurping little shit," Andrea huffed, letting the shit-talk write itself. "Gonna shoot so deep you're gonna fucking taste it, I swear to god. I am gonna fill you the fuck up, kiddo." Her movements were quick and feline-fluid, but there was that tiger strength in her bucks, shoving the boy and jostling him. He mewled and whined, making sounds Andrea did not often associate with bears, but Kushner was an unabashed sissy boy, so she was unsurprised.
When she saw his paw slip down to his crotch and begin to pump, Andrea let her cruelty mount. "You jerking off? You playing with that acorn you call a dick?"
"Yes! I am!" Brett said, sounding defiant but lustful. "Gawd, ah, I'm gonna cum and I'm barely even-, ooh gawd..."
"Two-pump chump," Andrea said tartly. She squeezed his hips, pulling him back, pulling his arm on the cage taut for a moment. "Jesus Christ, you are fucking tight, kid. Fuck."
Brett, grimacing and blushing red as a cherry, shot his wad. It splattered across the tile, watery and thin but accounted for. In his climax, he tightened on Andrea like a vise. The snug, youthful muscles in his behind brought her nearly to a stop, and their tightness made her grunt and hiss. She doubled over him, hugging him not affectionately, but monstrously. She eclipsed him.
Defying tight anal muscles, Andrea pumped away at Brett's young bottom. Over his warbling and crooning as he came into his afterglow, she snarled, "You're the best ass I've had in a year, you little shit!"
"Goddamn right I am!" Brett squealed, delighted but exhausted. "Oh, man, are you gonna cum for me or what? Come on, come o-o-on...!"
"Aw, you needy lil-, ah gawd," Andrea grunted, losing her voice in the exertion. She buried it in Brett, smashing her hips into his ass and her balls into his thighs before she erupted into the boy. It was as if she had never squirted earlier that day; her great release filled Brett and then overfilled him. It leaked out, running down the cute boy's taint, a sloppy white smear of tigress spunk to paint him white with.
"Good god," shuddered Brett, putting his sticky paw back on the cage. He clung to it and panted miserably. "My butt is gonna be so sore."
"Fucked you good," Andrea said in self-satisfaction, and slowly straightened herself up. She patted Brett's haunches as if praising a steed. "Now you hit the showers, you lil' fag, and I'll take you on home... what're you gonna tell your mom?"
Brett slowly collected himself. He pulled away from Andrea and her semihard cock slipped out of him with embarrassing easiness. The gush of cum down his backside started him blushing again. "Um, uh, I dunno. Detention? Or something? She kinda knows I blow Mr. Vanwell."
Andrea stared at him. "She knows?"
The boy stepped out of his shorts and picked them up, lifting them with his toes and transferring them to his fingers. Andrea found this adorable but didn't show it. "My mom's a total hippie. Like, I dunno, maybe not weird colors and lava lamps-."
"Weird colors? That's tie-dye, dumbass."
"Whatever. She's not like that. But she knows I like guys and she gave me that crap about wanting me to be happy. So, I mean, maybe she doesn't know exactly, but like-."
"Let's just say," Andrea patted his shoulder, "that you got detention, and nice Ms. Andrea gave you a ride home because her gym is along the way."
The bear smiled mischievously. "Okay. Sure. What's in it for me, though?"
Oh, you worthless little shit, thought Andrea with growing admiration. "Well, you know I could just say I won't break your neck here and now. But you also know I wouldn't hurt you anyway, you being a kid I just porked, right?"
"She touched me here, officer," Brett whined, smiling.
"Little fucker, full-of-shit little fucker," Andrea sneered. "Okay. Here's what's in it for you. When do you turn sixteen?"
"Couple months."
"Then when you do, you got a job lined up. Wipe off exercise equipment. Put dumbbells back in order. Sit on my cock and maybe my face. Sound like it's worth minimum wage to you?"
Brett snickered. "Yeah, that sounds pretty good... oka-a-ay, I guess I won't tell my mom you made it so my butthole's never gonna close all the way again."
"It better not," Andrea said, beginning to smile, "'cause if it does, you'll really be full of shit then." She smacked his ass and sent him giggling out into the gym. "Now go shower up and get the fuck out to the parking lot. Silver SUV up by the front of the building. I'mma be waiting."