I looked at Mom, whose extended arm offered me the instrument of myhumiliation.Mom didn't seem sympathetic to my pain. Instead, she seemed?hopeful. Ho...odd. The question flashed through my head, how did Mom know it was from aman? And a Valentine?The envelope told the tale. It was pink, with tiny red hearts all about.And the return address said: Richard Hardwood.Mr. Hardwood. My favorite teacher. The guy who was almost a mentor to meuntil he mysteriously quit teaching at the end of the previous. He looked into my eyes and I realized that neither of us really knew what to do, so I grabbed him and ran his cockhead through my soaking and wanting slit until he was positioned just right at the beginning of my virgin canal. "Push just a little bit Matt. I want to see what it feels like."He very slowly pushed his head into my sex. "OHHHH MY GOD AMANDA! I don't know if I can hold out for very long or at all!" It didn't hurt at all to this point and I was ready to take the risk. "I want you the. More

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