"For cookies? What kind?" she probed."Chocolate Chip," I said."All purpose," she said, pointing.Just like that. I said "Thanks," and she said "No prob...em," and I was on my way. I didn't even get a boner. I was amazed.When I got back home I was in a good mood. I gave the flour to my mother and told her I hoped it was the right kind."Perfect," she said."Good," I said casually. "Cause I didn't know what kind to get, and I ran into Mrs. Wilson at the store, and she said that was probably it."My. He was very happy, knowing that he had turned Courtney into a happy, obedient cheerleader.Courtney climbed up off the couch and limped over to his desk. She was very sore, but going through Mr. Hardown's unique form of discipline was worth it. She grabbed her top and used it to wipe Mr. Hardown's cum off of her miniskirt, ass, and pussy. She licked the cum off of her top with a smile.“So, uh... Mr. Hardown?” she asked. “What grade did I get on my... uh... test?”“Well, I think it's only fair. Nightly now Wanda had an erotic dream, at first she could not remember but awoke as she had always done in a sweat with her sex wet and her mind torn with desire. The longer it was that Wanda was awaiting another recurrence of that event, the more memorable the dreams became. Initially it was simply images of her mother smiling, of a hug, of a private look. Then it became more graphic as she imagined a flash of thigh, of a remembered sight of her mom in panties and bra, or even the one-time. So why did you sneak into my bedroom and tell me? Do you want money?"He shook his head, his hands clenched at his thighs. "No; n- no money. I want--I want--"Stella smiled, a feral and wet smile. "Me? I'm your payoff, Dale? If you want me, go on and say it." Yes," he managed. "Damn it--I want you, Mrs. Baker. Very badly. If there was some other way--but there isn't, and I don't care what I have to do, to make you swing with me. I want you that much."Stella let the towel drop to the floor, and.