Daddy and I had already done a blank wall shot, which would be superimposed on a stock background of an empty classroom, with him telling me unequivoc...lly that I had to let him pop my cherry if I wanted a passing grade in Algebra. I wore a light gray sweater dress, which showed off my tits and ass very nicely. It was probably not very appropriate for a real life classroom, but it gave the impression that I had come to school ready to be fucked. Daddy was outfitted with an old fashioned sports. He had a lot of cleaning to do this time around. When we were sufficiently clean, I had him get us some wine and water. When he returned to the room, I was lying on my back with Paula bent over on the mattress between my legs sucking my dick. I told him to set the drinks on the end table, then sit back on the floor and watch her suck me off. Once he was settled in, she took her mouth off my cock and stroked it. One hand was cradling my balls while she was attempting to wrap her. “Oh god please,” she whispered “Please what?” Mark asked “Tell me what you want.” “Oh god please, please kiss me.” Clare squeezed her eyes shut with anticipation. Mark stood and leaned over her, taking her mouth in a hot kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, mimicking what he so badly wanted to do with his cock. Clare turned her head to the side and moaned “No ... kiss me down there, please please.” Mark groaned and went back to his knees. He spread her legs, and blew on her pussy. Hattie and Slim were fourth generation wheat farmers way west of Kansas City. They had a lot of land but no kids came along to help, no matter how often they tried, so hired help was extra important. When they did find a good one, like the offspring of another farm family, or a conscientious objector, they'd go to town on a Saturday night looking for fun and pussy, and get a better offer and be gone.Growing up so close to nature, sex had never been a mystery. Swimming holes had answered a lot.