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Of course I’d never tried marijuana. I was fifteen years old, with no friends to turn me on to it. I’d never smoked a cigarette either. So when Miss Fuentes passed the joint to me I did what I’d seen in movies and on TV millions of time, held it between my lips and inhaled.
What came next was beyond awful. I expelled a huge cloud of smoke all at once, with a tail of fire up and down my throat like I’d swallowed drain opener. It was followed by the kind of cough that felt like my lungs were being torn out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe at all for what felt like minutes, where my vision started to darken at the edges as I hacked and heaved and gasped, spitting and finally puking up my delicious dinner.
Of course Miss Wentworth and Miss Fuentes were terrified, probably thinking I was going to die. They apologized over and over while patting my back and shoulders, yelling at me to BREATHE — as if it was that easy. They were crowding me as well, especially fat Miss Wentworth, which made the whole experience that much worse. Who knows how long it was before I started feeling better again, laying on my side, wheezing and weeping.
Miss Wentworth was at my head, holding a straw to my lips so I could sip water. She’d already cleaned the vomit off my chin and chest. Miss Fuentes was next to her, lower on my body, stroking my big belly and fat thunder thigh. I was nauseous and my chest and throat still hurt horribly but something about my ex-teacher’s touch was starting to distract me from it.
“There, there my big fat baby,” she whispered, as I sipped the cool water and listened to my own loud, raspy breathing. Normally I’d have been offended — hurt — by someone saying that to me but now it was soothing. Kind of funny, actually. I was kind of like a big baby, so soft, round, and roly poly. I giggled and it hurt. I coughed and spit up some water.
“What?” Miss Wentworth asked, pulling the straw away.
“It’s… nothing,” I mumbled, finding it hard to form words. I could smell her perfume, as always, but it seemed especially delicious, like candy and flowers. I could smell her body odor as well, which was like mine but different, and delicious in a different way.
“You okay?” Miss Fuentes asked. She’d stopped stroking me, which I didn’t like.
“Yeah… okay,” I said, after a long pause I couldn’t help. The burn was still there but dulled, and distant, and my nausea was gone. Everything else felt… great.
“Hang on,” Miss Fuentes said. “Be right back.”
The last syllable was strained a bit and I realized she’d gotten up off the floor as I watched her walk behind Miss Wentworth, squeezing the huge woman’s shoulder as she passed.
“Wait,” my tutor said to Miss Fuentes as she walked out of the kitchen. “Maybe let’s…?”
“No,” Miss Fuentes called out. She was in the foyer, I could hear it, and returned shortly with the big duffel bag she’d brought. I was seeing double now, or quadruple as I was fixated on Miss Wentworth’s gigantic tits. They were dangling in front of me, wobbling back and forth inside her dress.
“Can you roll over onto your stomach, honey?” Miss Fuentes said. She was behind me now, and I couldn’t see her. Her voice was strained again, like she was lifting something heavy or doing housework.
“Me?” I said, and both women laughed.
“Yes, you, Perry.”
My stomach was empty from having puked up dinner so it wasn’t that difficult. I rolled myself over with a grunt, aware of all the hundreds of pounds of flesh shifting and squeezing as I switched positions, and how long it took for my ass to stop wobbling once I was on my stomach.
But unlike most of the time I wasn’t frustrated or disgusted by it. It felt good — so fucking good. Then I started squeezing my thighs together, which jiggled my ass, which felt even better. I could feel the blood going to my crotch, and my cock was starting to stiffen in an uncomfortable way, buried deep beneath me.
My ass was already halfway out of my too-small trousers and I felt multiple hands pulling them off the rest of the way. I heard Miss Wentworth huffing and puffing and grunting and little cries of effort from Miss Fuentes as they dragged them down by huge hips and thighs, inch by inch. I had my arms out beside me, steadying my massive, bloated body as it rocked back and forth with their struggles.
“He’s bigger than you back here,” Miss Fuentes observed.
“Stop,” Miss Wentworth gasped, totally breathless.
They hadn’t taken my pants off completely, just pulled them down to my calves so that I was effectively immobilized, unable to really move my legs. My ass felt ridiculously heavy, like a whole other person was sitting on me. I was still squeezing my thighs which themselves felt absolutely enormous, but again, I didn’t mind for some reason. I was quite content to lay there like that, my belly pushing up into my oddly empty stomach and putting pressure on my FUPA and my cock as well. I wanted to play with myself but there was no way I could reach it. It was difficult enough when I was laying on my back. More than that, I was hungry.
Miss Wentworth was in front of me now, and looking up at her she seemed downright colossal. At first she was on her hands and knees but then slumped down onto her side, her vast bottom blobbing out across the kitchen floor and the rest of her shaking and quaking in response.
God she was so FAT. Of course I’d noticed before — like me it was the first thing you noticed about her — but it was like I never really had. Which doesn’t make sense but I promise you at the time it did. Meanwhile Miss Flores had started rubbing my butt again, leaning across one of my thighs with her modest but satisfying weight. She was squeezing it too, and pulling my ass cheeks apart, then letting them slap back together.
I was so big back there, it really was ridiculous. So ridiculous I found myself laughing, again for no good reason.
“What’s so funny, mister?” Miss Wentworth asked, but I didn’t have an answer for her.
She didn’t seem to care either way as she swiveled herself around on her butt, huffing and puffing, and then leaned back, spreading her legs in front of me. She lifted her dress to reveal her massive thighs and the thick, oddly dark rolls on their insides and her fat, hairy pussy. I caught a huge whiff of it, so strong and oddly unexpected it made me gag but I couldn’t stop sniffing it either.
She then dragged herself towards me, leaning back further to lift her feet over my shoulders. I coughed — which hurt — as her feet pushed down on me, pinning my upper body down in the same way my pants were binding my feet and ankles. I felt like I should be alarmed, be trying to struggle free or yell out but somehow it was all okay. Better than okay.
With one final heave she shoved her whole pussy right up to my face. It was wet to where you could hear it, sucking and sloshing sounds, and the smell was so intense I was woozy again. I felt something cold inside my crack and flinched, soothed by Miss Flores’ small, soft hand, rubbing something liquid up and down the chasm and over my asshole. It felt absolutely delicious.
Miss Wentworth had her own plump hand in my face now, going up and down, slowly stroking her pussy. I felt something — a finger? — breach my anus and flinched again. But it was a delayed reaction, like someone told me what was happening and then I reacted.
“Easy,” Miss Flores purred from behind me. I could barely hear her over the sounds of Miss Wentworth working her huge, sopping pussy. My old teacher had managed to spread my thighs just wide enough where I could feel her between them. Her hands were on the top of my hips, sinking into the endless flesh there. Which hurt a bit, but again, in a wonderful kind of way.
“I’m gonna fuck you, Perry,” she whispered. “Is that okay?”
“Just do it,” Miss Wentworth moaned, and so she did.
I cried out as I felt… something… slide into me, deeper and deeper, inch by inch, til I couldn’t take anymore. This was way more invasive than the enema Miss Wentworth had given me, and stretched my asshole way beyond what I thought it could take.
“Stop,” I gasped, though part of me — most of me — wanted it to keep going. I felt her hands sink into my hips again and the… whatever it was… slid out of me again in the most delicious kind of way.
I was breathless also because Miss Wentworth’s feet were really pushing down on my shoulders, and she was rubbing her snatch so furiously I wondered how she wasn’t hurting herself.
“I’m gonna fuck your fat —” Miss Fuentes moaned, but whatever she was gonna say next was cut short by a piercing shriek. Whatever was in my ass ripped out of me and I shouted in pain and shock, then cried out as Miss Wentworth kicked me in the side of the head as she rolled her huge body away from me.
“PERRY!” my mother screamed. “What the bloody fuck…?!”
“Oh, god, no!” Miss Fuentes shouted. “It’s not…”
“Who ARE you?!?! What are you doing to my SON?!?! GET OUT!!!”
I watched Miss Fuentes run in front of me, wearing some weird contraption around her hips with a gigantic black penis attached to the front of it. My mom was chasing her. I turned my head to the right and saw Miss Wentworth was trying to get to her feet but tripped and fell into the kitchen table, knocking it over. .
“It’s okay mom,” I wanted to say but it caught in my throat.
It didn’t matter; my mom was too busy freaking out. And how could you blame her? Even at fifteen, and high, I knew what we were doing was so wrong you almost had to invent a new word for it.
Suffice it to say, it would be a long time before I saw either teacher again. I promise I’ll tell you about that next time.