by Candy Quinn
“Mr. Muran,” she moaned, her skirt flipped up over her stomach.
He groaned so lewdly, his face contorted with overwhelming pleasure as the sounds of their fucking filled the classroom. The same place she’d spent so many years learning under him, now she was pinned beneath him, taking his cock in deep.
Her breasts jiggled before him, each new hammer thrust of his dick making her chest ripple. He forced his eyes open to watch that delicious motion as best he could, though it only heightened his own arousal, made him tremble, his dick swell and spurt pre.
“I dunno how much longer I can last,” he groaned out, the pleasure such a strain on his body. He was racked by the sensations.
And though she wanted it to last so much longer, to feel him riding into her so deeply, it was hard for her to fight her own need. The fact that she was so sore, of course, but also her desire to see him pleased. To watch his face contort in ecstasy and feel him pound into her, battering against her depths.
She squealed at the thought, as he tugged her closer again, her large breasts bouncing with every thrust as she was only able to make out a strained, “Yess!”
Her teacher fucked her harder, even if his motions grew more haphazard and uneven. He was losing control of even himself as his pleasure mounted, spiralling towards his end as he pounded her just-recently-virginal cunny.
“I can’t pull out!” he choked out the words before burying himself into her, jamming his shaft right in to the depths of her pussy and blowing his load against her fertile womb. It was intense, for him and her, and though he didn’t know he wasn’t the first to do so that day, to her he felt like the first to truly matter.
He bucked and spasmed atop her, thrusting his cock a little more as he pumped out all he had into her raw, unprotected little pussy.
The heels of her hands dug into the desk as she cried out, her body on fire with the intense sensation as she gasped for air. He felt so amazing, and she forced herself to watch as his face contorted with pleasure, because of her. Because of her body.
It was a high, and she wouldn’t soon forget that look he gave her once he settled, his gaze holding hers so intensely.
* * *
Months later, it was still etched in her mind.
The entire summer had been spent together, her teacher he remained. Instructing her on how to handle the duties for her new position. Instructing her on how to be a good lover.
School was set to start, and as instructed, she showed up bright and early to get things ready with him. Though most of their prep time was taken up in other things.
Cradling her continually swelling belly between her knees, she knelt before him, his dick in her mouth as he looked down at her, moaning and quivering as his hands stroked her hair.
“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he told her, petting her, coaxing her alone. He’d been teaching her to be such a pro at sucking dick, and she’d gotten so damn good at it. “Such a good girl,” he approved through in his moaning voice, forcing his eyes open once more to watch her suckle upon his stiff prick.
She had no way of knowing who’s baby it was inside of her, but in her heart she felt it was his, completely.
She ran the tip of her tongue along the lining just beneath his crown before diving back further down his cock, feeling him press against the back of her throat. It was a feeling and a sensation she relished, and with each passing day, she enjoyed it just a little bit more.
It was easier, now. He didn’t leave anything to guess work, simply told her what she needed, and she always obliged him. It was what she lived for, was happy to do, and her every motion spoke to that passion she still had for him.
The look on his face, the sound of his pleasured voice, it all made sucking his dick such a delight for her. The salty little spurt upon her tongue as he guided her back off his dick was an added treat.
“Okay, careful,” he said, peeling her lips from his throbbing dick. “Not yet,” he said, breathing heavily in his fancy brown suit, ready for the first day of classes.
“Get up,” he instructed her, taking her hands and helping pull her to her feet in her high heeled shoes. He took his time, looking her over in her short skirt, her blouse strained not only by her pregnant belly but her thick breasts, all the more full from the milk that was engourging them.
“Damn you are so incredibly beautiful like this,” he said so sincerely.
She blushed at his compliment, never tiring of his sweet words, his delicate touches. She was so passionately, blissfully in love with him, and she leaned in and up to press her lips to his, tasting his mouth with her tongue.
Her fingers pet down her skirt, running out any of the little wrinkles as she looked up at him, her brown hair pulled back into a high ponytail that she thought made her look professional. It also gave him a little bit of a leash, should he want it, and that worked well for the innocent woman turned debauched slut.
“I dunno if I’ll be able to resist from keeping you in this state from now on,” he remarked, his arms reaching out around her, one cradling her belly, the other her ass, fondling those supple cheeks. “Maybe I’ll keep you knocked up from here on out,” he said sweetly, letting his hand round the curve of her belly to softly knead her swollen breasts, the mounds fleshy and tender from being so full.
She’d been curious, since that first day, if rumours of how she’d gotten the job had touched him, if he knew of her promiscuity, but it never came up.
She wasn’t certain how he’d have reacted, but she was so tender hearted towards him, filled with such affection and attentiveness that she barely left his side any longer, if she could help it.
And she had to admit, she liked how swollen her breasts looked atop her firm stomach, her body softening in such a supple and womanly fashion.
“Did you do like I told you?” he asked, a smirk upon his face as he reached down, and without waiting for an answer he very slowly raised reached down and raised that skirt, lifting it up to expose her bare little cunny slit. “Perfect,” he said, sliding his hand in between her thighs to rub at her slit softly. “Just like our first time,” he said approvingly, letting one finger slip into that slick little pussy of hers.
She sucked in some air, her body so turned on from pleasing him, from so willingly being his little mouth slut. Her darkened areolas stiffened beneath her tight shirt, her legs spreading a little as his finger delved within her slick, fleshy walls.
“Sir,” she gasped, her eyelashes fluttering downwards.
With his dick still throbbing hard and exposed, he stood up from the edge of his desk and directed her.
“Bend over,” he said firmly. “This load’s for your little pussy, even if it’s already too late to plant another seed there,” he said, smiling at her wryly as he guided her hands to the edge of his desk, positioning her just as he wanted her, those heels helping push her ass and cunt up to just the right height for him.
He got around behind her, lifted her skirt to expose her ass, that little pussy.
“So damn fine,” he muttered.
Her hands clasped her former teacher’s desk, holding herself aloft as her swollen pussy was presented to him. It was slightly darker, both with her need, and from her pregnancy, and was glossy with her juices.
She looked over her shoulder at him, that ponytail whipping along her face.
“I need you, Sir,” she pleaded, pushing her ass and cunny closer to him. “Take me.”
“I know,” he said simply, reaching out and grasping her ponytail, wrapping it about his hand as he sank his dick into that little pussy. It was still so tight, and wrapped deliciously about his dick as he began to pump his cock into her. His pace more careful and slow with her belly so fully of child.
“There you go,” he said in a deep, throaty groan, followed by a loud sigh of pleasure. “You feel so damn good,” he mutters lowly.
She squealed a little as he went in so deep, plumbing her depths with such angled precision as she wiggled her soft ass against
his hips.
He always felt so good. She never tired of the feel of his body against hers, of the way he made her sing out.
Her cries were warbled by the way he tugged her head back slightly, but she enjoyed that too. The little prickle of her scalp, the way he claimed her as his. And she so desperately wanted to be his. All of her childhood fantasies had come true, and she was still so utterly thankful.
Mr. Muran — as she still thought of him — pumped into her, smacking his groin to her ass as they fucked against his desk. His balls swung up pendulously to smack against her clit and mons, and he tugged back on her hair, keeping a tight reign on her.
“Your first task as— as teacher’s assistant,” he began, panting and finding his words interrupted by the pleasured moans, “is to get me off… before class starts.” He licked his lips and gave her ass a smack of his palm, “Better hurry. They’ll be gettin’ here before long, miss Amy.”
And even though she knew he was having her on, trying to entice her, she responded as if it were more than mere words, but an earnest warning. Her ass slapped against his hips as she gasped and gulped for air, her breasts rocking and the tender mounds aching with each thrust. Yet the ache only caused those darkening nipples to harden as she tightened her cunny around his thigh cock.
Her little squeeze did just the trick, it made him moan aloud, filling the room with the sounds of his pleasure. He didn’t have much more left in him, he couldn’t have; Amy had been sucking him off for some time. Toying with his balls upon her tongue, suckling on his prick. His cock was sensitive and bound to blow any time.
All the same, he made each moment count, and he reached around beneath her and her pregnant belly, teasing her little clit.
“Show teacher how fast you can cum for him,” he muttered in command, wrenching that ponytail a little tighter, tugging at her scalp as he shuddered and his nuts tightened, taking him so close to his limit.
Oh those dark, devious words matched with that skillful touch... She’d been teaching him to please her, in her own amateurish way. After all, he’d spent quite some time learning her body, and it was with all that practice that made her gasp.
It wouldn’t take long, just a few seconds of his fingers rubbing along that soaking, throbbing nub before her grip tightened on the desk, holding herself just barely aloft as she gasped and then saw that explosive spark behind her eyes, like fireworks being let off in her body and making her cunny vibrate around his stiffness.
It was so intense she could barely even sense the moment when her teacher’s dick exploded and he let loose a deep, booming moan that filled the room. His dick spurt its load, thick long creamy strands that filled her already pregnant pussy. So much of his cum filling her up, overflowing her as he rocked his hips and pumped out all he had into her.
“Ohhh fuck…!” he muttered, his words gravelly and harsh as he shuddered, all the contents of his balls dumped into her depths.
“Mr. Muran!” she cried out, her entire body trembling with such bliss. Her orgasms had only been getting stronger along with her pregnancy, or perhaps just with his skill, but whatever it was she was eternally grateful as her knees trembled with the power, the aftershocks thrilling through her as he pounded into her and laced her with his cum a few more times.
“Ohhh, Mr. Muran,” she said as she let herself go downward, resting her body more fully across his desk.
They were both panting in the afterglow of their climaxes, and only after a long while relaxing did he slowly pluck his dick from her cum-filled cunt. He tidied himself up, put his cock back in his pants then came to her, helping her stand back up right, leaving the cum to drool down her inner thighs.
“The students are coming,” he said with a smile. “Here,” he instructed, handing her papers. “Distribute these to all the desks.”
She took them in her hands, her face brightening as she looked at him so affectionately.
She had her dream job, her dream lover, and the best life possible.
Bought by the Bad Boy
Book Themes:
Breeding, Barely Legal, mild blackmail, Bimbofication
Word Count:
5,579
* * *
High school is something most people put behind them as life beckons them forward, but for me? The carefree life of summer teen days was something I never wanted to say goodbye to. And I didn’t.
College? Nah.
Job? Don’t think so!
Laying by the pool in my parent’s luscious backyard in my string bikini, I was too busy enjoying life at a leisurely pace to waste my time on those bores. Instead I’d soak up some sun, then head inside, eat, clean up, and head out for a night on the town. Clubbing and bars, have a blast with my girlfriends, most of whom were like me; they skipped the whole bore of college and work life.
Though that one day, I was in for a rude surprise.
When I walked into the house I found my mother and father arguing, which was odd. They never fought like the parents of poorer kids. They had everything!
But when I saw them brandishing around a letter and arguing, it seemed like reality hit home.
I tried to put it behind me after they explained what was happening. They’d said horrible things like that I’d need to get a job! That they couldn’t afford to cater to my lavish lifestyle — as if! — and I’d have to make my own way.
I was in tears, frankly. And even that didn’t change their minds! So I knew it was serious.
I wasn’t the most fun that night, not in on the laughs my friends were having, but trying not to let them realize I was about to become one of those depressing tales of woe. What a bummer that’d be!
But out of the neon lights of the club appeared a tall, dark and handsome man, dressed better than all the other guys I’d seen that night. He stood out, but not in a bad way. I guess maybe it was the way he walked with that kinda swagger like he owned the world.
It was like the calling card of the rich and famous. Warded off those that’d be too intimidated to talk to someone that was just, like, brimming with confidence.
But for me?
It made me get off my ass and start towards him. That was just what I needed. Some rich jackass to treat me like a million bucks, buy my drinks, and make everything go back to normal.
Sure, I was only thinking of one night for the second, but every step I took towards him and my expectations grew. One stilettoed heel in front of the other, my slinky, black dress creeping up over my long legs with every step. By the time I got to him, I wanted him to be putty in my hand.
Though I was more than a little put off when he kept his cool, and managed to stand there, one hand in his pocket, looking so in control. His intense gaze turned towards me and I sensed I felt something familiar about him, though I couldn’t place it. He was no older than me, but he looked far more mature.
“Surprised to see you here,” he said, his deep, gravelly voice carrying over the beat of the music to my ears. He was broad in the shoulders, but fit and trim, judging by the looks of his tailored suit. “But then not,” he added on, as if he knew me.
My nose crinkled and I giggled, as if I was totally in on his joke. The worst thing in the world would be to tell the stud I didn’t remember him.
“It’s been awhile,” I said, taking a stab in the dark. I mean, it wasn’t like it was a complete stab, because if I’d seen him recently, I totally would’ve remembered him.
“You look good,” I added on.
He sized me up in return, as if truly scrutinizing me. Though even that stony, confidently handsome face of his couldn’t keep him from the truth.
“So do you. Better than ever in fact,” he stated, turning towards me and looking so intense. “Easy to see you’ve been taking good care of yourself. You’re hotter than even my memories could do justice,” he said so openly, looking utterly unperturbed by the confession.
As if the words didn’t affect him at all, but I knew the difference. I jut my hip out, my han
d on it like I was going to another photo shoot, and gave him my best smile. “So are you going to buy me a drink, then?” I asked, trying to be cocky.
“I remember a time when you would barely let me do that much,” he said, cracking the slightest of little smirks as he flagged down the bartender, able to command her attention so easily, when most of us struggled. “I trust you like the same,” he said, before ordering me a Cosmo, same as I’d always loved, since I was a girl.
He’d bought me drinks before — or at least offered — and I still couldn’t even remember him. Maybe he was, like, ugly or something before. Lost some weight or something?
I just couldn’t place him, and trust me, I’d have remembered someone like him.
“So when’d you get back?” I asked, guessing once more.
“Just last week, in fact. Rolled into town to buy a few businesses up,” he said as our drinks arrived, him with a vodka tonic, sipping it as he looked me over. “I was going to look you up, but honestly, I didn’t expect to stumble upon you this quickly,” he leaned against the bar, his own fit form silhouetted in the dark light so well as he studied me, soaked me in like I was the main course of a meal.
“I know what you’ve been up to though,” he said with a cocky grin.
I giggled as I took the straw into my mouth, wrapping my tongue around it before taking a sip of the drink.
“Ohh, a stalker?” I purred out.
“Not quite,” he replied, taking another mouthful of his stiff drink. “I just figure there’s no chance in hell that with that body of yours, you’ve changed since we last met. And you’re still doing the exact same thing since last I touched bases with you. Am I wrong?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow in challenge to me.
I shrugged. The fact that I couldn’t remember him was starting to grow old, and I was getting frustrated, so I took another sip of my Cosmo and gave him a dazzling smile, flipping my long hair from my shoulder.
