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began: "One of these caused me to fail grade 11 German. Dorothy Braun sat to the right of me during my final exam. She was a pretty dark haired young thing who had immigrated to Canada when she was ten. She spoke fluent German and was the language teachers pet. Some of the girls gossiped that he gave her special private tutoring. On that fateful day, she opened her exam and breezed through it in no time. Perhaps to flirt with her favorite teacher, that day she chose to wear a short skirt and a black see-through blouse with a shiny black bra underneath. She must have realized I stared at her breasts throughout the whole period, but I was sixteen, still a virgin and just couldnt help myself." He continued: "She glanced over at me, smiled to herself and opened her pencil case. She took out a new wooden pencil, just like this one and twirled it around with the fingers of her left hand. Dorothy held onto the unsharpened tip like this, then slid her hand down and rested it on her leg, just as Im doing to you. She spun it around between her legs, and then guided the eraser end up under her skirt, just like this. I watched intently as her fingers poked and prodded the pencil about. I suppose she managed to push her panties aside somehow, like Ive done with yours. That done, she twirled the pencil to and fro and back and forth, then started doing long penetrating strokes, much like these. After a few minutes, her fingers pulled the pencil out from between her legs and brought it back up on top of her desk. The eraser end of it was shinny wet, just like this one is now. Dorothy sniffed the tip briefly, the put it into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she sucked her juices off of it. Seconds later, the end of period bell rang. She watched as I struggled out of my desk. I bent over and tried to cover up the bulge in my pants with a notebook but she had already seen. Dorothy glanced up at me, smirked, stood up and strutted out down the hall! Failing that exam messed up my average so bad I had to transfer to a technical school the following year and I never saw her again." All that story telling must have exhausted Dougs sex drive temporarily, for he settled back with his pencil and dozed off in no time at all. However, all that left me with was bunched-up underwear and a wet, hungry pussy. I looked around for something suitable to play with and found an ice scrapper beside my seat. It was a really deluxe one, with an exquisitely ribbed, foam-padded handle. Temporary comfort comes in strange guises sometimes and it looked like it would fill the bill. After I licked the handle juicily, I grasped the blade then felt the thrill of it puncture my



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pussy. Sexy thoughts of Louise and a full vagina helped the miles pass, but before I could do anything about my secret toy, we were crossing into the U.S.A. at Cornwall. The stop and go traffic towards the border crossing created a frantic situation for me. Every time I moved my right foot from the gas to the brakes, the inside of my thigh pushed hard against the ice scrappers blade. That shoved it sideways and I felt it split open my vulva. Each time we moved a car length ahead, I felt my pussy got looser and wetter. It was all I could do to stay calm while approaching the Customs Officer. She was an attractive, but bitchy-looking aboriginal Indian, about my age. Suddenly, I wondered if entering the U.S.A. with an ice scraper wedged in my pussy would be justifiable cause for a cavity search. I held my legs together as tight as I could as we rolled up to her kiosk. I rolled down my window and was mesmerized by the most striking black eyes I had ever seen. I looked her right in the eyes and answered all her questions. As she questioned Doug, I took notice of her petite hands. I wondered to myself if shed be gentle or rough searching my pussy if I lifted up my skirt right then and let her see my little secret. I wiggled my right leg back and forth on the brake pedal for more intense stimulation as he explained our Port Louis shortcut to her. After Doug told her we had nothing to declare, they both looked down at my busy leg. Realizing I suddenly had a real situation on my hands, I blurted out, "I have to pee really bad!" She smiled, pointed out a restroom in a nearby building and wished us a safe trip. Then I had to demurely exit the van, tighten up my pussy muscles so the ice scraper wouldnt fall out and strut to the washroom as they both watched. That was the longest fifty feet Id ever walked. Back in the van with my scraper washed up and tucked away in my purse, I vowed to be good the rest of the trip. Shortly after we entered the USA we turned east and passed a sign for the Mohawk reserve, St. Regis. I gazed to the north and wondered if my Mohawk princess lived up there. We ate supper in Dundee and were at Louises door in Port Louis by seven-thirty. My heart pounded as we stepped up onto the front porch of the big old Mansard-roofed house. The front door swung open and there was my sweet Louise. She hugged me tightly for the longest time then whispered, "I cant believe youre really here. Please stay here with me forever." She broke off her embrace and all I could see were those sparkling dark eyes and her intensely erect nipples jutting out. When she helped me off with my sweater, she brushed it