Line 'em up (and forward to the past-tense) -- assembly line pussy!

Hm. This was tough. Usually I can level with multiple choice scenarios. But I suppose I just felt outdone by my own boldness here; it was like a human auction, really -- and they were the ones getting gratified, at least in their heads, swarming me to supply their demand. How wonderfully backwards was that?

As the clamor grows to deafening heights I raise a hand to assuage the electric atmosphere.

"Ladies, ladies." I shake my head, brushing off invisible residue from my shoulder -- for effect.

"Girls!" Mr. Marks folds his arms and sits back on his chair. "Settle down, he is trying to speak!"

The girls finally sew their lips closed, swiveling their heads from the teacher back to me, a fog of expectation lingering above all their heads. The guys, meanwhile, watched on with casual interest. A cheering Nick catches my peripheral. I wiggle a finger at him in playful acknowledgement. He swings his head up and down in typical guy language, and we roll it up from there. Always great to have emotional reinforcement.

"Now." The teacher addresses me once again. "What was it you wanted to propose, John?"

"Thank you, Mr. Marks."

Back to business.

With one hand I gesture to the desk at the front of the class. "First of all, I'm sorry to say, girls, that I pick none of you."

Not a syllable after, the class is immediately drowned in devastated mewls. Arielli is dabbing her eye with a handkerchief I didn't know she kept with her. Stephanie bangs her head against her arm, hair pooled over her desk, and stays there. Kesha is looking up, and -- is she praying?

After I collect myself, another hand goes up, which I move like a teetering see-saw.

"Wait, I'm not done. Jeez." I clear my throat. "Since you're all nice enough to eat -- " Some of the girls' heads perk up at this. "-- I think a better approach is what I like to call the 'ol assembly line pussy. Please." I walk up the aisle. A league of pretty haired heads follows my relocation. "If I can have you all to remove your pants and skirts and then underwear, and bend over the front desk here, presenting your self to me ass-first, I will oblige. Either with my hand, or my better half right here." Patting my pants at that last part was sure to give away the meaning.

And, as expected, they took it.

The breakage of cheer that followed could've made an overtaken dam retire, so much so that I decided, officially, to change the tense of the story from present to past because it was starting to get trickier for me to keep it on a present scale. Hey, it's my world, I could do what I want. Besides, being potentially omniscient (I mean, when I wanted to, anyway) made the concept of time irrelevant in the long run.

Jumping to their feet, all the prettiest girls of the class got to quick work, shucking away their skirts and slipping out of their jeans and finding a place at the front desk. I happily eyed the collection of girl bottoms (of the cotton-polyester kind) strewn across the floor, and then looked up to admire the naked, round, fleshy ones that now passionately converged at the front of the class.

Several fought for middle positions when they realized that maybe being at the end was better since I could get to them first. But then others came to the realization that, if I started from the other side, it would be lopsided. And then there were those who actually didn't want to be first, and wanted to savor the moment.

It was amusing to watch. Eventually, they all settled into a place they were comfortable with (or couldn't help) and bent over, shifting weight from leg to leg, wiggling their tushes enticingly, watching me from behind. It was an erotic sight, to see all those faces hungrily watching me just above their naked bottoms, waiting for my call as I freely ogled their bottom halves.

Stepping forward, I looked down, and wished my pants away. As it disappeared, my penis the size of a blue balled bowling pin, sprung into view. The guys in the class clapped, whooping and shouting my name. Then, gripping the first girl from the right, hands digging into her hip, I situated myself in front of her somewhat tight-looking vaginal orifice and thrust my fingers into her pussy. Moaning, the short-haired redhead nearly faltered, but I pushed her back on up. She was crying out in pleasure and barely 3 minutes had passed. As this went on, the entire class began a cascade of chants and encouragement.

"You can do it Sandra!"

"Fuck her good, John!"

"Uhhhg I'm masturbating so hard right now my fingers are going to be all wrinkled!"

"Yes yes, make her your bitch, make all of us your hot bitches!"

Didn't need to tell me twice.

The girls were now all squrming, squishing their legs together as they buried their hands in their pussies. Some of them weren't even theirs. The guys and Mr. Marks spurred me on. I took my dick and plowed Sandra's uterus with gusto she was probably going red from, the sloshes filling the air as I felt a barrier and cracked it open like the cherry of an egg, causing Sandra to moan even harder. Speaking of red, some fluids of that color began to trickle down her own leg, which I amusingly noted matched the hair on her head as my hips popped against her ass in steady rhythm. When I looked up, Arielli was clutching Valencia's breast as she smiled at me, fingering her cunt in her elation. To see me filling up another girl -- it was one of her greatest fantasies. All of theirs, in fact.

Almost as much as filling them was.

And, sure enough, after Sandra, I proceeded to do just that. Butt after butt, cunt after filled cunt, fertile womb after fertile womb. Veni, vedi, vici, baby.

First period had never been so riveting.