“Oh I didn’t realize,” she mumbled, looking down. “I thought it would be fifteen dollars an hour, maybe twenty. My family can’t afford a hundred fifty, not even if I chip in because we’re working class and my parents are already stretching their budget to send me to Spencer. So I guess it’s not going to happen,” she concluded, embarrassed, looking down.
I was silent for a moment before speaking again.
“Well,” I said smoothly, “I’d like to help. How about if I tutor you? Say some extra sessions after school until you take the test?”
The brunette’s eyes flew open, the caramel pools so warm and hopeful that I almost drowned in the molten chocolate.
“Oh would you?” she breathed. But then she paused, a little confused. “But why? I don’t get it, you won’t get anything out of tutoring me.”
I kept my expression impassive.
“That’s not true,” I corrected gently. “It reflects well on me if a student of mine takes an advanced exam and passes with flying colors. It speaks to my effectiveness as an instructor, and maybe,” I shrugged, “they’ll consider it when it comes to reviews.”
I didn’t add that I didn’t plan on staying at the school much longer so reviews were pretty much a moot point. But the little girl didn’t need to know.
Evie bit her lip.
“I guess that makes sense,” she said slowly. “And if I do well, maybe Spencer Prep will funnel some resources into the Biology department. They’ll see that students are really motivated and help you buy some new supplies, some new plants, that kind of stuff,” she said, biting her lip. Was she thinking of the kumquat tree I kept outside the classroom in a big pot? The delicious fruit, golden orange and ripe? I definitely hoped so, and we’d be getting to that soon enough. But for now, Evie’s eyes were filled with hope.
“Would you, Mr. Phillips? If you tutored me, it’d make all the difference,” she breathed. “I want to be a doctor and this will help get my pre-med studies started. But,” and here her chin trembled. “My family can’t afford to pay you much,” she said quietly. “Like I mentioned, we’re working class and I’m actually only here because of a scholarship. We can’t afford someone as highly qualified as you.”
I steepled my hands under my chin thoughtfully.
“Well, we can work something out,” I said smoothly, my face impassive as I leaned back in the chair, casually handsome, in total control.
“Oh, would you consider doing it for free?” the brunette breathed, her eyes going wide with delight. “That would be so kind, Mr. Phillips!”
I threw my head back and laughed.
“Oh no little girl, this isn’t going to be free, not exactly,” I said casually. “We need to work out something in terms of payment.”
And Evie looked at the floor again, her hands twisting into one another, the look on her face crestfallen.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Phillips,” she said quietly. “My family doesn’t have much and it’s tough to drum up more. Fifteen dollars would be the most we could afford and I know that’s not enough for someone with your credentials.”
At that, a wolfish grin came over my face.
“I’m not asking for anything from your family,” I rumbled, “No, I figured the payment would come from you.”
The brunette looked confused, raising her head to meet my gaze with puzzled eyes.
“From me?” she asked quizzically. “I mean, I guess I could help you grade papers or do some filing. Or is there something else?” she asked, perplexed.
I shook my head.
“No, nothing like that. Grading papers would be a conflict of interest, you’d see other students’ grades and I don’t have much filing on hand,” I shrugged. “But I do have something else in mind.”
And the brunette shook her head, the mass of curls tumbling over her shoulders.
“But what?” she asked, her brow creased. “I mean, I’m still in high school so I don’t exactly have any marketable skills,” she said wryly.
And at that, I pulled the kumquat out of my pocket, the little globe orange and juicy, shiny under the classroom lights. Because after Evie had popped it out of her pussy, it’d rolled down the darkened hallway to stop at my feet, and I’d surreptitiously picked it up, stowing it in my pocket until I got home, smelling the tang of her pussy juice, licking the little fruit while re-living what I’d just seen in my head.
And I could tell the brunette recognized the fruit, her eyes going wide, her breasts heaving with agitation.
“Is this yours?” I asked casually, with a smile on my face, holding up the little fruit.
And the brunette’s shocked gasp was answer enough, my body going on alert, hungry suddenly … for what Evie had to offer.
CHAPTER FIVE
Evie
Oh god, oh god. What was that in Mr. Phillips’ hand? Oh god, could it be? I felt myself go hot, then cold, then hot again, my face going beet red, the flush spreading across my chest, my hands and feet suddenly clammy.
I’d searched for the kumquat after my little session during Homecoming, literally crawled on my hands and knees trying to find my lost fruit in that darkened hallway. But I’d come up empty and finally gave up, shrugging my shoulders. It was no big deal, it was just a piece of random fruit, the janitor would pick it up the next morning and trash it.
Except here it was in Mr. Phillips’ fingers and he was smiling at me like he knew.
“Um,” I stuttered nervously. “Doesn’t look familiar, no.”
But the big man was smooth.
“I think you know,” he rumbled deep in his chest, his blue eyes dancing. “Don’t pretend little girl, I think it belongs to you.”
“Um, it’s… it’s a baby orange?” I feigned ignorance.
The big man just chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
“I think you know what it is, Evie,” he growled, his eyes suddenly intent. “It’s a kumquat and you know where it’s been.”
At that I flushed again, probably turning an even deeper shade of red. Because it’d been in my pussy, I’d moaned and screamed during my session, sure that I was alone, sure that the thumping of the music muffled any sounds I was making. But Mr. Phillips’ devilish grin told another truth – that he’d seen the whole thing and I was outed. Oh my god.
My lips trembled, in fact my whole body trembled, and I turned pleading brown eyes to him.
“Please Mr. Phillips,” I begged. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
He grinned at me, blue eyes gleaming.
“Why would I tell anyone?” he drawled. “It made my day, my entire month in fact.”
I gasped. What was he saying? That seeing me in the hallway, nude, my pussy pulsing had made his month? Could it be true? Surely not. But the way the air was tingling told me that something had changed, that suddenly we were more than just a student and teacher, that this was more than a talk about AP exams and after-school tutoring. A bolt of lightning ran through my body and I could tell the big man felt it too, our conversation suddenly supercharged, my cunt moist, my breasts sensitive.
And Mr. Phillips’ eyes flicked to my nipples as if drawn by a magnet because they looked like rocks under my sweater, stiff and perky. Although it seemed impossible, I actually blushed a little more. I’d worn a tight top and modest skirt today, a change from my usual jeans and t-shirt. I dunno, I guess the release I’d gotten from Homecoming, my masturbation session had made me feel devilish, sexy, and I didn’t want to wear the same old boring stuff anymore. So I’d worn something sexy, form-fitting, flirtatious.
Except now my nipples were clearly poking out through the cashmere, the material so fine, so soft, that it highlighted the protrusions. I cursed internally. God, oh god, why was this happening to me, now of all times? I thought wearing the outfit would be a nice reminder of the fun I’d had Saturday night, a memento of sorts, except now I was being betrayed by my own body.
But Mr. Phillips ate it up. He smiled knowingly again, eyes gleaming, his chest
and abs hard, as his gaze swept up and down my body, making me tingle, my breath suddenly short.
“Like I said,” he said with a low growl, his voice suddenly sensuous and suggestive. “Seeing you play with the kumquat, strumming yourself to a finish, was the highlight of my month.”
And I gasped again because he’d finally put words to it, we were beyond innuendos, vague suggestions at what had happened. He’d said it. I’d “played with the kumquat” and “brought myself to a finish,” and it was totally true, I’d done all that … and more. I’d dreamed of him while fingering myself, imagining the big man touching me, running his dick in and out of my sweet spot, making me tingle and shudder, his big cock doing the dirty, making me feel good.
And my gorgeous teacher just chuckled again.
“And Evie, I loved witnessing it,” he rumbled, eyes ravenous, pushing back from his desk, leaning back in his chair so I could get a good look. “See what you do to me?” he said, gesturing to his pants.
And I gasped. Because the tent at his crotch was huge, and I mean really enormous, the way his penis was curved under the tight fabric looked painful, it was almost bent over and wrapped around his waist the way it strained. My mouth grew dry, my hands suddenly trembling.
“Oh my god, Mr. Phillips,” I breathed. “Are you okay?”
He groaned, his hand lightly caressing the rod through the twill material, running up and down the arched curve.
“I will be,” he rumbled deep in his throat, “after you kiss it.”
I gasped again. Kiss it? Kiss a man’s cock? Because Mr. Phillips had hit upon my secret weak spot. Sure, I touch myself all the time, play with myself, even insert fruit into my sweet pussy, but the fact is that even though mentally I’m really dirty, physically I’m a virgin. Nope, I’ve never had a man touch me, much less run his dick inside, and the thought of playing with Mr. Phillips’ cock made me … well, it made me go weak actually, I was dying to try it.
So I dropped to my knees in front of him. No need to tell him about my inexperienced state, this was the perfect time to get a little practice. My little hands went up to his waistband to unfasten his belt, but the big man pushed back in his chair.
I let out a little whine of disappointment, my eyes flicking to his, still on my knees.
“No little girl,” he said getting up and standing, that big cock practically in my face now, making me hungry. “Girls who suck do it naked.”
And I gasped. Naked? Me? Here at school in the middle of the day with people walking around outside?
The alpha male just grinned again, striding around the classroom, pulling down the shades and locking the door. We were now in a darkened space, not black but dimly lit, and I knew from the outside it’d look like an empty classroom. I could hear a few muffled conversations outside, the slam of a couple lockers, but otherwise there was no indication that anything was different.
“You’re lucky,” the big man said, sitting back down in front of me. “It’s lunchtime so people are gone and no one’s gonna suspect. Now take off your clothes,” he commanded.
I paused for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes before slowly getting to my feet. Was I going to do this? Was I really?
But the thing is that Mr. Phillips was literally the man of my dreams, the guy that I thought about when I was alone in bed, teasing myself with my fingers, moaning with ecstasy. He was literally the stuff of fantasies except now it was real … and we were about to play.
So slowly, I grasped the hem of my sweater in both hands and pulled it over my head, shaking my curls free. I took a deep breath before sneaking a look at him and was immediately gratified, my cheeks coloring, my body heating up to a thousand degrees.
Because the big man was entranced, his gaze riveted by my girls, the luscious, creamy orbs encased in a lacy demi-bra, the pale pink material cupping my breasts lovingly, showing off their pale bellies in the dim light.
“You like?” I murmured, slowly tracing a finger along my décolletage, teasing him, running my finger into the deep valley between my girls.
“Little girl,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I fucking love.”
And I giggled then, my hands going to the back clasp and undoing it with a quick snap. Slowly, I eased the straps over my shoulders, stroking them off until my breasts were revealed in their full glory, pendulous, hanging, perfect ovoids with stiff red nipples at the tips.
Coyly, I ran my fingers around both nips, tracing the sensitive flesh before flashing a look at him and cooing again.
“They taste really good,” I sighed. “You wanna try?”
And the big man was literally struck speechless, his eyes riveted by my movements, his cock out now, one hand going up and down that huge shaft in a rhythmic stroke, the veins pulsing, balls high and tight.
“I want to taste it,” he growled low in his throat, so turned on that the words were a little garbled, hard to understand. “I need a taste.”
But it was my turn to be in charge and so I shook my head coyly.
“No tastes for you, big guy,” I cooed. “Only for me.”
And with that, I lifted one of my girls up and licked the nipple, savoring the sweet bud, running my tongue around and around, electrical sparks shooting straight from my nip to my clit.
“Oh,” I moaned between nips and licks, “Oh oh, tastes good,” I murmured wickedly.
And the big man just groaned, his hand a blur on his shaft now. There was so much pre-cum that his pole was completely wet, his fist easily pumping away, stroking through the copious lube, so much that it pooled on the chair, making a sticky mess.
“Now for the other,” I said coyly, and lifted my left boob to my lips for a taste, doing the same with this nipple. Except this time, I gave myself a little love bite, delicately nipping my tip with small white teeth, flirting with Mr. Phillips through my lashes the entire time.
“Imagine my teeth on your cock,” I sighed breathily. “Imagine how that’s going to feel.”
And the big man stopped all motion, his body rock hard, that huge dick pointed straight at me. I guess he was getting desperate, perilously close to the edge because there were no longer any full sentences.
“Clothes. Off,” he commanded, his voice hoarse, his eyes ravenous.
And with a giggle, I obeyed. I shimmied out of my skirt, pulling the fabric sensuously over my hips before kicking them away, and then played with the waistband of my panties, lightly tugging, teasing him, making the big man salivate. And god, but Stone’s dick was literally weeping now, there was a steady stream of sperm dripping from the tip to the floor, a pool of pre-cum that I longed to taste.
“You wanna see?” I breathed, snapping the waistband. My fingers crept down to my cunt and I lightly trailed it over my fleshy lips, the material soaking wet. “You wanna see?”
But before he could say anything, I did the deed. I hooked the material in one of my fingers and pulled it to the side, showing him my pretty pussy, the swollen lips, the clit so stiff and achy that it pushed out between my labia, begging to be touched. Leaning back a little, I canted my hips forward so that he could get a better view and even spread my legs a bit, squatting so that my hole opened up, winking at him.
“See?” I purred throatily. “My kitty wants you.” And at that moment, a bead of pussy cream coalesced at my vaginal entrance and slowly dripped off, a long string of ooze dropping from my cunt to the floor.
“I’m creaming for you, Mr. Phillips,” I breathed. “My kitty’s dying for you.”
But the big man hadn’t forgotten his original instructions.
“Clothes. Off,” he barked. “On your knees.”
And I didn’t hesitate to obey. I wiggled out of my panties, the damp lace a ball on the floor, and knelt completely nude before him, my pussy sopping wet, my boobs heaving with short, indrawn breaths.
“Open,” he commanded, and instinctually I obeyed. My pink pouty lips parted and that big dong kissed my mouth. It was just a butterfly kiss at first,
my teacher ran his glans over my lips, tracing the outline of the cupid’s bow, trailing his pre-cum over my softness, teasing me. But I couldn’t resist. The feel of his semen on my lips made me hungry, desperate for more, so I twisted a bit and caught the head in my mouth, that stiff, rubbery crown so tasty, so meaty that I moaned with pleasure, my eyes rolling back in my head.
“That’s it,” Mr. Phillips panted, his eyes fixed on the dirty sight, a nude girl with her lips on his dick. “Keep going.”
And I moaned again, one hand going up to play with his balls while the other seized his dick at its base, holding it ready for a good suck. And I went at it like a crazed girl, desperate for cock, desperate to get it in me, somehow, somewhere.
I flattened my tongue and licked up his length, trailing a bulging vein along the bottom, the vein beating so fierce, so hard, that I thought he might come right then. But Mr. Phillips had better control than that, his gaze hard with desire, his breath quick and controlled as he stared at me. So I went in for another long lick, this time trailing my tongue along a huge vein on the upper side of his shaft, playing with it, feeling the blood coursing through his penis, savoring the musty taste of man. And it was so good, so yummy, that I popped him in my mouth after that, sucking at the tip, letting the pre-cum run down my throat, swallowing as much as I could.
I loved it, loved every second of it. It felt so good to have this huge piece of man meat in my warm cavern, thrusting against my tonsils, so enormous that my mouth was stretched wide, even a little uncomfortable. I could feel tears coming to my eyes, the saliva pooling uncontrollably, but I was too hungry to care and pushed his dick even further down my throat until my nose hit his pubes, his personal scent musky and all male in my nostrils.
“Ohhhh fuck, little girl,” groaned the big man, his head thrown back, eyes closed as I deep-throated him. “Fuck, you’re good.”
And that only made me try even harder. Experimentally, I began bobbing my head up and down while my hand played with his balls, the mighty shaft running up and down my throat, visibly going into my esophagus. And it felt so good, was so arousing, that after a minute or two the big man’s balls seized in my hands, going higher and tighter before he creamed.
The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 29
