Pottery Class

 As a way to bond together, and spend some quality time with each other we decide to sign up for a pottery class. The class meets one night a week for an hour and we are taught how to making a variety of pottery items. Items range from bowls, vases, cups, mugs and planters. The class is pretty small, the teacher seems knowledgeable in the art of making, pottery and after a few weeks we start to get the hang of this type of art work. 

There are add-ons we can choose from, such as taking extra advanced classes, spending time in the studio to work on other pieces, as well as some one-on-one learning opportunities. 

We first decided to take up some advanced classes and got to make some pretty cool things, a big planter for our front porch, some his and her mugs which had some cool bleeding techniques in the color and a couple of plates for our dinners. 

One day we decided that we want to get some solo studio time and sort of expected the teacher to be on hand and help guide us as needed. However we come to find out that the teacher had an emergency that day and had to tend to some family business, so after we let in, we were given run of the studio. Knowing that we have a few hours to ourselves and that no one else would be showing up, our minds start to work overtime thinking it could be a nice opportunity to take this a bit further. We initially started to work on a piece we were constructing, it is a water pitcher but we’re having a hard time getting the handle just right. It kept drooping or was not think enough. We tried a few more times but to no avail. With muddy wet hands we could only laugh at our  continued failure and wand wondered what to do next. 

We had on some old clothes, as we knew it is a dirty hobby, so as we sit at the wheel, laughing we hug each other to try and support our efforts for the day. 

The hug lingers longer than either of us had expected and it triggers something in our minds that turn to dirty thoughts. Our lips lock and before we realize our hands are embarrassed on each other’s face, wet, muddy, and dirty. But the passions between us takes hold and the dirt, clay, wetness mean nothing. 

Lost in our little world we break the kiss and look at each other lovingly. Our faces are all smiles and we break out into laughter again. I ask if we should try reforming this handle again and you give me a shrug. Instead you ask if we should try to create something else and in turn I respond asking what you had in mind. 

A cheeky grin emerges from your face and say, how about another kid? 

Quizzically I look at you thinking to myself, what does she mean, like a small statue of a baby? Bell, we are having a hell of a time putting on this handle let alone constructing some statue and where would she even want to put this thing? 

As these thoughts pass through my mind, you are reaching down and pulling off my shirt. It sort of startles me but immediately, I pick up on the hint. I reach over and start to lift your shirt as well. Here we are, along, dirty and topless. 

We take a few seconds to admire the this exchange and then we both stand up tossing our shoes off and pulling our pants down. 

Once naked, we embrace in another long hug followed by a few simple kisses. You can start to feel my cock growing and reach down between us to give it a few tugs with your dirty little hands. They are a bit cold, but it is an erotic feeling as we are in a semi-familiar space but have never been naked here before. 

I reach down and gently squeeze your ass and pull you in closer. Our lips lock again and the world around us disappears. 

As the moments tick by, we are lost in our passion, feeling each other’s bodies and making us very dirty. 

You look up at me say you have an idea, you want me to lay down on the floor and close my eyes. Being such a trusted partner, I willing oblige and lay down on the cool floor. You move over to the storage area that keeps the clay and get it pretty wet. I wonder what you have in mind but think it might be fun so just roll with it. 

You tamper the clay into a thin sheet and bring it over to where I am laying. You then proceed to wrap the thin layer of clay around my cock and are gently squeezing it around. A light goes off in my head, you are working on making a mold of my cock. 

You keep squeezing and trimming the clay to form a perfect cast of my cock. Leaning o er every once in a while to kiss me and rub my chest. Sporadically my hands venture around your body, grabbing your ass and breast when given the opportunity. 

You look down towards my cock to closely inspect your work. I wonder how exactly you are going to pull this sleeve of clay off my cock and cannot help but think you are thinking the same thing too. I notice you glancing around the room. Then your eyes become wide. Is someone here, what is she looking at? I look in the direction you are staring at and see no thing out of the ordinary. You quickly get up and walk in the direction you were looking. I hear the tap water turn on and you walk back with a small pitcher of water. You ask me to turn on my side and pour the water around the base of my cock while gently tugging on the clay sleeve it is now encased in. It starts to slide off and I get what you were thinking. As the clay is finally removed from my now throbbing cock you look at me with a a devilish grin and get up again. More water is coming out of the tap and you are again filling up the small pitcher. You Saunders back over to me only to pour the warm water on my goin and start to stroke my cock some more. A towel is in your hand and you wipe my cock clean. 

Before I know you are done, you toss your leg across my body and are now straddling me reaching for my dick and maneuvering toward your wanting pussy. 

Me, laying on my back, with you ridding me is a thrilling experience. My hands reach up to grab your breasts and gently squeeze them as our love making is happening. 

It dawns on me that I have no idea how much time has passed but who would really care at the end of the day? The teacher never said when they will arrive back, and are we just to wait or try and lock up the studio ourselves? 

The thoughts are fleeting as you begin to moan and start asking for me to give you new life. You clearly want me to fill you with my warm seeds and give you another baby. 

Your hips buck, your breathing becomes more labored and I can see the eyes starting to roll back into your head. I feel that pussy clinching around my throbbing cock. I feel a gush emerging from around the base of my dick, fuck yes, you’re cumming so hard you are squirting on my dick. I feel I am close and while you are begging for my cum I tell you it is about to explode inside of you. I hear a scream of excitement escaping your mouth as I grab your hips and pull you down onto me even further. You feel my cum pumping into as I feel your cum running down my balls. We are nothing breathing very heavily and you fall onto me as we embrace. A few kisses and then we both hear a loud noise. A door is being opened. Here we are, on the floor, naked, exposed, and very dirty. The whole studio smells of sex. The door closes and in walks the teacher as you do your best to try and cover your boobs. 

Both of us are looking up, stunned and wondering what will the teacher say? Are we about to be kicked out of class? 

My dick is staring to slip out of your very wet pussy and where the hell are our clothes? The teacher is looking around them room, not expecting to find us naked on the floor having sex. This is it, they notice and we have been caught. The teacher adverts their eyes and mumbles a sort of apology. We scramble to our feet and fumble with putting on our clothes. 

Laughter breaks out from the teacher and they are almost bent over in a fit of hysterical laughter. Their hand goes up waiving at us and then their index finger is raised as if to say, nice me a minute. We look at each other a bit shocked. Are we in trouble, or are they laughing at us? We wait and the teacher regains their composure. After a few coughs, they say, no worries, I expected something like this and trust me, it is not the first time. The teacher then notices the clay sleeve you cast of my cock and bends down to inspect the object. They look back towards us and start to giggle some more, then says, well this is a first though. But a good job on the mold, who made it? You sheepishly raise a hand and the teacher nods. They say, well let’s fire it up and you can do what you want with it but I have some material you can use to make the physical copy, if you want me to show you how. 

It is at this time I look down at the floor where I was laying and see the mix of water, and cum we have made. I offer to get a mop and clean it up as the teacher fires up the kiln. 

We learn a new lesson that afternoon about, casting molds, and getting caught but we always welcomed back to class.