Chapter 3 - Cock Therapy - Conclusion

Well shit, all stories had to come to an end somehow, right? Adam Ward had been caught in the act with a “vulnerable” student, in one of the worst possible ways in the worst possible place; how was prison this time of year anyways? “Mr. W-Ward! How could you?”, the usually cantankerous Mrs. Artino had gone full blown nuclear and he was Chernobyl. After being caught red-handed, well, red-dicked, the still elated Gwyn Paltro had been told to leave by the shouting older vixen. Shakily collecting herself the stumbling teen simply muttered, “B-Bye, S-Sir.”; a twisted smile of ecstasy still plastered on her face. Mr. Ward’s curvy little goth teen had received such an incredible dicking, albeit a short one, that she had barely noticed the infuriated dean; all she could think about was preparing for her next session. “Y-You! You, how could—You!”, the cougar was at a loss for words, breasts heaving as she hyperventilated and paced across the small office. She was wearing thick vermillion wedges that exposed her manicured red toes, a crimson sleeveless business dress, and her silky red-brown hair was fashioned ironically like a sexy school teacher’s; he was noticing a theme here. The Bewildered Dean aggressively placed her hands on her hips, struggling to find the proper words to berate him with. A newfangled counselor caught having sex with a student in her school? It would be a PR nightmare! The principle, the superintendent, the board? She had her suspicions about this, pervert, Mr. Ward. Yes, he was a lazy slacker who was apparently too busy boning these idiot kids to actually—What is that? In her unbridled rage and utter shock the woman had failed to notice his still erect monster; still twitching mind you. She blinked, trying to determine whether she’d had a stroke or was simply hallucinating; there was no way. Mr. Ward slowly raised his head as he noticed that his verbal assault had ceased, and began to carefully study the entranced woman, doing his best not to startle her. Even he had forgotten that his pants were down but the intruder was absolutely stunned by it. 

 
Tender red lips slowly parted, “Mr. W-Ward, would you p-please—.”, her voice softly trailed off; the usually well-composed woman now struggling to even think straight. Mrs. Artino hadn’t seen a phallus even close to that big in nearly two decades, having married her lovely husband not long after her undergrad. Vincent, Mr. Artino, was a kind and business-savvy man that she cared for immensely, and also appreciated all the lovely treats he’d bought her over the years; the Louis Vuitton, the Prada, and of course the BMW. That said, he lacked in certain departments, departments that she’d long attempted to fill with all sorts of toys. But that? Such a fine woman didn’t deserve to require plastic dicks and fake cum-pumps, no, her mind was now occupied in a fierce tug of war. He could see that her reddish eyes were fixated, and Mr. Ward slowly transformed into Adam Alinsky, a horny boy with a plan. He knew that had her hooked, and now all the counselor had to do was reel his catch in slowly and steadily; it was freedom or prison on the line. “Mrs. Artino— Dean Artino, would you please close the door?”; he made no sudden movements. Slowly succumbing to her cravings the now trembling faculty member reached back and slowly shut the door. “Lock it, please.”, Mr. Ward took a single step forward as he issued his command, trying not to break her concentration. “O-Ok.”, she whispered while slowly turning the door’s lock. Click! Maybe he should’ve pursued a career in snake charming? Well, right now he kind of was one. Adam continued to close the distance between them, as it wasn’t far, and before the two of them knew it they were less than two feet apart. The Dean’s exposed knees began to quiver as she looked upon the delicious, albeit impossibly large, manhood; he would need to utilize all of his tools. Adam casually removed the thick glasses from his face and folded them, neatly tucking the pair into his shirt pocket. 
 
In his “Alinsky days” he’d tussled with many a resistant MILF, most notably Karen Bishop, a lovely mother of five and devout wife of sixteen years. From that perilous conquest he’d learned two things: 1. Never touch the package until they’ve touched the package. 2. Sexually starved mothers enjoy rimming. Rule No. 1 was essential to sealing the deal. “Dean Artino—” “Mr. W-Ward.”, oh shit, what? “You have been n-nothing but t-trouble”, the seemingly hypnotized dame maintained eye contact with his veiny trouser mauser, slowly lowering to her knees; mind and body completely out of sync. “I should’ve t-told Principle H-Hay-Hayworth”, soft lips parted as she sluggishly pulled the loose slacks down to his ankles. As much as he wanted to grab the torturous ball-buster by the hair and mercilessly slam his cock down her throat Mr. Ward resisted, as events seemed to be unfolding in his favor; all this buildup only made him harder anyways. Her gaze shifted from the throbbing member to his large and full balls beneath it. Jesus, glazed eyes widened as she admired them in genuine awe; raw and unshaved. Mrs. Artino hadn’t fondled, let alone sucked, her spouse’s family jewels in years; poor Vincent. No, poor her! Almost a decade of neglect and inadequacy surfaced as the red-headed seductress pressed the monstrous shaft along her cheek; god it’s warm! She cautiously pulled back, not noticing that her sharp nails were gently digging into Mr. Wards rear, and looked up at him with faltering conviction; Mr. Ward had a feeling he was safe but couldn’t shake the anxiety that her glare induced. “I w-want those f-forms by M-Monday.”; she was about to start panting, like an animal in heat. Monday? “Monday?”
 
With no warning she hungrily descended on his lovely testicles, both sucking and kissing his scrotum in reverence; thick red lipstick smeared across them. Yes! Both the liberated Dean and the relieved guidance counselor shared the same thought. She tried her best to please Mr. Ward, to make him fill her up with his rich baby gravy; God how she yearned for it. The shapely woman hadn’t felt a real, tender and warm, pair of testicles grace her velvety mouth in years. The usually unimpressed guidance counselor did his best to keep cool, as he had still been stiff from the tight teen pussy not thirty minutes before; now this? A foolish Mr. Artino had wasted a luscious woman’s mouth, pussy, and ass for far too long; Mr. Alinsky would do something about that. She moved her way up, kissing and nibbling from the trunk of his enormous dick to the quivering tip; her mouth was lipstick smeared mess. Lustfully, submissive eyes matched his gaze, “Can I, daddy?”
 
She was practically purring as she rubbed her smooth face along its length, not once shifting her gaze from his; she wouldn’t act until he allowed it. Daddy?! Good Lord she was a slut! Adam had little reason to tell her otherwise, placing a hand on her tiny chin, “Yes.” There was no delay as she did her best to consume him, and to his surprise failed to gag or choke once, intently slurping along his cock with love and admiration. One hand gripped her increasingly messy hair and the other a nearby wall as the admirable Dean Artino diligently serviced him. She was an expert, never forgetting to occasionally slip down and smooch his aching balls, and whatever wasn’t getting sucked got stroked; soft warm hands glided along his moist prick. Between moans Mr. Ward asked her a question, “W-What’s your f-first name, Mrs. Artino?” She audibly removed his dick from her mouth and hummed affectionately, “Marcella”, giving the entirety of his footlong shaft a single long lick. 
 
She was no longer Dean Artino, stuck-up student wrangler, she was Marcella. A woman who just wanted to be stuffed properly, as she deserved, by a big fucking dick; was that woo much to ask for? He had held out for a long time and the “demon” within was desperate to glaze his new toy’s ravenous mouth, but his “better judgment” had decided that wasting this much spunk by blowing it down her esophagus would be unwise; he had a risky idea. Lightly gripping her cheeks the strapped stud gently raised her from her knees, staring deep into her flickering eyes; she was his to shape now. He gently turned her around to face the desk and she almost immediately placed her hands against it; the unbelievably horny broad knew what he wanted. The guidance counselor’s motions were fluid, sliding his hands up her thick thighs and then further up her dress, smoothly pulling her panties to her ankles; he could feel the heat of her dripping snatch. The athletic young man pressed into her small back, and with a single hand slid his inhuman slab against her. “Shit”, she whispered, “A-Are you sure that’ll fit, daddy?” He answered by slowly sliding the slippery anaconda into her waxed mound, almost immediately hearing a small whimper in response; it was one of fulfilled desire. This pathetic counselor, this aloof, fumbling bastard, this— thick, throbbing, cock was the best thing that had happened to Marcella Artino is years. As he slid into her eagerly, appreciative, pussy she could barely contain her bliss. Long legs trembled as he spread her apart, and her stomach nearly bulged as he pressed into the base of his pelvis into her; an overstuffed fit. He continued to grip her body firmly, but simply gave the overjoyed Dean a moment to wallow in pleasure; grateful tears rolled down her eyes. 
 
“F-F-Fuck.” They all say it at some point. Marcella looked completely wild, overcome by a desire finally fulfilled. For a moment he pitied the gorgeous woman impaled on his meaty member, as even with all that beauty: soft unblemished skin, firm tits, an impeccably full ass, and even her lovely eyes. All the material wealth that had been provided her.... All she really needed and wanted was to get dicked-down, and well, from time to time. Adam was slow and considerate of his massive girth as he began to fuck her; manicured hands squeezing the wooden desk intensely. Each time he reentered her sensitive walls she let out a shaky moan, unable to even track how many times she’d orgasmed since they'd began, as his humongous manhood consistently rubbed along her clit. It wasn’t long before the very well-endowed young man decided it was time; time to do something very stupid. He leaned in and was about to whisper something in her ear when, per usual, he was interrupted. “J-Just c-cum in m-my l-li—“; she didn't even need to finish. He rewarded the pent-up nymph for her service by emptying a massive load into her womb; both could it spilling past his horse-like manhood, dripping onto the old carpet. He leaned into her, his own legs shaking, and almost caused her to cum again. Marcella gave out onto the desk, sending his paperwork and office supplies tumbling to the floor. They needed to share no words, not a single one, as the exhausted lovers simply allowed themselves a moments rest. Adam Ward, who had spent the better part of a decade running from himself, had wound up right where he started; dolling out dick like he owed it. Well, not quite, as he still had a handle on things. Yes, only three people knew, and unlike before he had a feeling that they weren’t the sharing type; he’d be smart this time. 
 
~
 
Almost two months passed and Mr. Ward’s quiet, unassuming life, continued normally; well, not entirely. The strict Dean Artino showed no signs of changing during school hours, continuing to degrade and humiliate the guidance counselor every chance she got; fair enough. Anna Campbell stopped by 2-3 times a week and more often than not just wanted to chat or tell him about the progress she was making. She'd become more focused on college admissions than getting stuffed every weekend and he was proud of her for it. Little Ms. Gwyn Paltro was also excelling, and with his help had convinced her art teacher to let her resubmit her portfolio assignment; she got an A-. Yeah, life wasn’t too bad for the aloof counselor. Now, with all that mushy shit out of the way, when Friday rolls around and the clock strikes 5:30? His small yet loyal harem of little sluts pay a visit, and for a couple of hours every week, Adam Alinsky can live freely.  
