The man driving the car is a good-looking man, who I immediately recognized as Mr. James, my high school math teacher. I knew that he was married with...two kids, and I had already signed up for another of his classes for the coming year. He seemed pleased with my appearance but didn’t recognize me as his student. I usually wear my long, red hair in a ponytail, and he wasn’t used to seeing me with makeup.We had been driving for a few minutes, when he ran his hand up my leg, and under my skirt,. He seemed oblivious to it at the moment. Sure enough as the bus rocked and the teenager bumped into his arm, it moved again. This time I could see the outline of the end bit, it moved upwards like the hand on a clock. It must have been uncomfortable for him, but being restrained meant that the motion of the bus was effectively rubbing it against his pants, causing him to become more excited. The lump became more distinct. He reached down to adjust it as discretely as possible, and I quickly. ”She said,” I’m not done yet dad because I want you to fuck my ass as hard as you just fucked me now. Do you want to fuck my ass dad or is that too disgusting.” “I’ll do whatever you want me to baby.”“Then shove that big cock down my throat now.” She was so exhausted but she loved to be throat fucked. The pressure of a cock forcing its way down her throat and making her gag caused her cunt to react in strange ways. She would finger herself in time to the thrust of the cock and as she gagged her. I couldn't believe it. How could such a handsome, tall black college football stud be queer? Oh, well. I couldn't abandon him. I loved him too much. He was all I had. I couldn't go back to the way I was. Alone, friendless and sexless. I'd rather die. So I did some research on bisexual men. I watched videos about them. What I saw amazed me. In one video, a bisexual guy said he much preferred having his kinky girlfriend work him with her strap-on dildo than to hook up with random guys. Well, that.