It was finally 2:30 on a Friday and I was very much looking forward to a weekend of relaxation. Those are quite rare in my field, and I tend to take full advantage of them whenever I can. My name is Michael Jordan…yes, the same name as the basketball star, but no… I’m shorter, stocky, white, and the only basketball skill I possess is doing decently well in our school’s March Madness pool. Although, I’ve joked with ex girlfriends telling them they can tell their friends they’re “dating Michael Jordan” just Hardcore to get a few laughs. I’m the high school band teacher in a relatively urban area of the northeast. I mentioned before that I’m “shorter” and “stocky,” well; I stand 5’8” and weigh about 220 lbs. I suppose I look like your typical teacher type of guy in his mid 30’s. As I walk down the stairs and out to my car, I’m met by a staggered chorus of “goodbyes,” and “have a nice weekend.” I respond back to each student who takes the time to greet me. I’m fairly well liked among my students, as I should hope to be considering how much time I end up spending with them. On a normal week I see them during school, after school for practice, and on the weekend for additional practices and competitions. So this rare two days of freedom will be nice, but I did not know just how nice it would become. I had no sooner gotten home than I received a text from one of my students. Yes, asian we text, but its only ever about school related information as a way to better coordinate our crazy schedule. But this text was different. “Mr. Jordan…My parents locked me out, and they won’t let me in the house. I don’t know what to do. Help me!” I need to explain a bit. As amateur I blowjob said, I teach in an urban area, and most of the students have lousy home lives. I often find them coming to me for advice, for help with other subjects, and occasionally just to hear a comforting voice tell them that everything is going to be ok. I text back, “Just take a deep breath, Brielle. Did they tell you why they locked you out?” “I didn’t get home before 3” she responded, then continued, “They said I might as well find somewhere else to go this weekend, but I don’t have anywhere to go.” I took a deep breath and thought about what to do. Brielle is one of my best seniors. She’s a very sweet girl, and I won’t lie...I’ve found myself looking at her and undressing her with my eyes at times, and fantasizing about the things I’d love to do to her. She’s about 5’4” wavy brown hair just below shoulder length, deep brown eyes, and a smile that would like up the room. She’s got a nice body too, not what you’d except from a Latina girl, rather she only has a slight curve to her waist and hips, flat stomach, small ass and tits that couldn’t possibly be bigger than an A cup in a push-up, which is just what I like. I certainly didn’t want her on the streets for the whole weekend. Who knows what would happen to her… I decided to call her “Hello?” she answered, clearly sobbing. teen “Brielle, its Mr. Jordan. Are you ok?” “No… I …. Have… no where to go….” She replied between sniffles. Tears were wetting his neck as I held on and gripped him and released my body to him…”Ohhhh…unhhh,” I oozed and almost screamed blowjob out and pressed my lips on his neck, licking my Hardcore own tears…coming and coming. Connie looked shocked and said,”You want me to....put my mouth on your cock?” Then a sharp intake of air rushed into my lungs as I forced my own head down into the pillows and screamed as the orgasm ripped through my body making me buck back onto cock even harder meeting his thrusts. I stood to face her then took her hands in mine and stepped back so I could look at her. Most were probably new. And I almost-instantly became aware of a very strange sensation of pressure deep inside of my vagina. So I let her pull me to the “dance floor” which was right in the asian smack middle of everyone and started dancing with her. I sat down next to Alex on amateur the couch. She had meanwhile broken down on top of me and her head was resting on my shoulder, she had lost consciousness. I began working as a sex surrogate after a psychologist approached me at a tantric sex conference I was lecturing at. “Ahhh…” teen I gasped, more stimulated than I thought I would be, but still far from hard. “Master, can I have this?”