Mort Ashton had been a school bus driver for 30 yr. He was 55 years old now, short, balding, and sporting a handlebar mustache it had taken him calendar month to get, let alone maintain. His gray buttony optic flickered from one teenage girlfriend to another as they boarded his bus, wearing those wicked shortstop chick and low cut blouses with their derisory high blackguard. small prostitute, that 's what they were. And he lusted after each one of them hungrily. He hid his bald pip with a fedora that all the teen made fun of. `` Hey, Mort, who do ya recollect you are ? Indiana Jones ? '' They would bug. `` Aw, shuddup and sit down, '' was Mort 's ceaseless reply. Then he would check his show in the mirror, wondering how much longer the hat would be big enough to shroud the greasy embrown hair he had remaining on his head. The adolescent knew he was spiritualist about this and they also knew what a lecherous old guy he was. The daughter made a power point to give him an eyeful when they boarded the bus, leaning over and bending over, the racy single knowing that he was sporting a woody in his tan uniform trouser that he would love to works in them if he got the opportunity.

One day his regard came true. He only had one young lady to dribble off at the end of his road and it was a foresightful way to her home. As he rounded the crest of the Alfred Hawthorne, the bus began to sputter and shake. He made it to the top of the hill and the vehicle died as he managed to guide it to the side of the road and park it in the gravel. He was still 5 miles from civilization, alone with his passenger. His passenger was Tootie Adams, a elder. Tootie came from a piteous family, a `` large '' misfortunate family. Nobody knew exactly how many blood brother and sisters she had, but there were numerous rumours of incest and other roguery about the brood she lived with. Like all the other teenage girls, Tootie dressed in short tight skirt, low cut tight blouses, supporter and thigh high hose and spike hound. Tootie was African American, but Mort found her all the more enticing because she WAS black. He 'd never screw a black gal.

Today he might get lucky if he played his placard right. She was full looking smutty female child, big titmouse, round ass, long slender branch. She wore her fuzz cut short, in what Mort would call a `` crew cut ''. It did n't detract from her feminity, though. Nope, it sure did n't. He checked in the mirror and saw her get up from her rear end and walk toward him, a look of genuine concern on her cheek. `` What 's the affair, Mort ? What happened ? '' She asked. `` Aw, the bus just died. You 'll either have to walk the eternal rest of the way base or wait until I can get some help out here to fix it and take you home. '' He explained. `` Walk ! I ca n't walk five Admiralty mile in these skid ! '' She squealed, pacing back and forth down the gangway. `` Well, I 'll radio for help and we can just sit back and relax then, I guess, '' Mort offered. `` I guess that 's what we 'll take to do, then, '' Tootie answered, sitting back down in the seat. Mort radioed in to the garage and was told it would be an hour or two before help could get there. `` Looks like we 're in for a tenacious time lag, Tootie, '' He told her, `` Why do n't you locomote up here closer and we can get to love one another better ? '' He asked. `` Oh, okay. I guess so. Why not ? '' She replied, bending over to get her books from the seat to wreak them up front with her. `` I guess I can analyse while we 're waiting. '' `` Yeah, surely. '' Mort replied, eyeing her long, slender ramification. They sat in silence for respective mo, Tootie studying her book of account,

Mort studying Tootie. He became boldface and reached out to stroke her leg. `` Mort, what are you doing ? '' Tootie asked coyly. `` Just checking out those recollective purty legs, '' Mort replied, moving his hand up her leg a piddling further. `` Oh. Well, help yourself. Do n't vex, I like it when men disturb me, '' Tootie explained. She leaned back and opened her legs a little, giving Mort a good view of her Bikini trouser with the crotch cut out. `` Like what you see, Mort ? '' She teased, opening and closing her legs slowly and seductively. `` Mmmm ... certainly do ! Can I move up a slight closer and get a good spirit ? '' `` Yes you can, '' She answered, spreading her legs widely apart and throwing her book aside, `` await as close as you want. You can advert too, if that 's what will make you happy. My daddy does it all the sentence, so does my uncle and my big brother. We have alot of fun at my mansion. '' `` That 's what I hear, '' Mort told her as he moved closer between her legs, sliding his hands up her piano, supple thighs toward the sparkling moistness beckoning him from within. Tootie lowered her hips closer to Mort. She took his handwriting and placed it in her crotch, `` Feel it, Mort. Ai n't it wet ? '' She teased, taking his finger and inserting it into the moistness.

Mort thought he would faint ! Never in his life had he dreamed he would be doing this when he left his meager home plate for piece of work this morn. `` Oh, child. It 's wet. It 's hot ! I want to fuck it ! '' He moaned. `` Well get along here and let me see what you 've got to provide, '' She commanded him, moving his fingers from her genital organ and licking the fluid from his fingertips. She reached forward and squeezed the huge hard-on straining against Mort 's trousers. `` Oh Mort ! What a big cock you have ! I want you to put it inside me ! '' She squealed as she stripped off her blouse and threw it aside. Her enormous brown chest joggled as she unzipped Mort 's knickers, pulled them down to his mortise joint and the freed his monstrous outgrowth from his underwear so she could get a goodness flavor at it. `` fountainhead, well, if I had known what a monster you had been hiding from me all this fourth dimension, we 'd have got done this alot Sooner, '' She told him. Mort leaned back in the seat and Tootie straddled his lap, sliding her damp cunt over his throbbing pecker. Mort reached up and squeezed her tits, pinching and pulling on the mamilla, then he took them into his backtalk, one at a clip and suckled hard, like a newborn baby. `` Oh, Mort. suction them, baby. That 's it ! suction them gruelling ! '' Tootie squealed in pleasure as she lowered herself over his erecting. `` Oh yes ! Your big fat dick feeling soooo good ! piece of tail me, old man ! Fuck me ! '' `` Oh, yeah baby, I 'm fuckin'. I 'm fuckin', '' Mort replied bucking his hips up and down like a piledriver inside the besotted, hot hole of this beautiful youth female child. They fucked and bucked fast, then slowly, then faster again, each of them drunk with the drinkable of lust and desire, working toward a satisfaction of their thirst for culmination, faster, faster, rich, deeper, until Mort 's huge member began to twitch and buck, emptying his ejaculate into the stripling 's womb.

As his huge cock pumped his spend into her, she jerked and writhed in her own orgasm, twitching and tightening her cunt brawn around his throbbing tool, until both of them were spent, exhausted and satisfied. `` We 're gon na do this again, '' Tootie promised Mort as she put her wearing apparel back on `` You can bet on that ! '' Mort replied, pulling up his pant and watching the bus overhaul van pull up behind their shillyshally vehicle .