Ida had been watching Sheena during gym class. The acrobatic teenager had been using the parallel bars, her tits bouncing, thighs flashing.

Then Ida had managed to sneak a look at her, naked, in the shower.

The rumors were right about Ida.

She was a cunt-lapper.

But not exclusively.

Ida eyed Red Miller thoughtfully, nodding slowly as if in agreement.

"Yeah, Coach – I can see that," she said, in her husky, low-pitched voice. "I know that I have to exercise my vagina to keep it tight."

Red's jaw dropped like a lever, damned near bouncing off his brawny chest.

"You know, Coach Miller – maybe, being colleagues, and all – maybe we could exercise together, sort of collaborate on keeping fit, huh?"

"Errr – how would we…"

"Understand, it wouldn't be like making love. Not a man-and-woman thing. But we could kill two birds with one stone if you exercised your penis in my vagina."

Coach Miller was astonished – and then his jaw closed up again and he began to grin.

And Ida Whicker, without further ado, began to strip off her gym uniform.

If she was a lesbian, it was a shame, Red thought – because Ida had a lovely body. All trim and tight from steady exercise, rippling with sinew, yet with velvet-soft flesh drawn tight to her contours.

Her tits were small, but firm and round and topped by big, rosy tips. Her ass was hard as a rock and her legs looked like they could crush a man's haunches if they locked around him in a scissors grip.

Her cunt-mound was a wide, tawny triangle and, below, her cunt-slot was soaking wet and gaping open. Dyke, or not, this was some lady!

Ida sat on the edge of Red's desk, her bare ass perched on the rim and her legs trailing to the floor, lean thighs wide apart, cunt streaming juices between.