by Penny Wylder
He says things like, “Yeah baby, give me a show” and tells me how pretty my pussy is. It gets me so horny I can hardly stand it. He positions himself between my legs and rubs the head of his dick on my clit.
“I want your big cock inside me,” I say, feeling bold. I’ve never talked like this to anyone before. It feels kind of awkward at first, but I like it, and by the way he growls and slaps my ass, I think he does too.
The head of his dick feels more like a fist when it pushes against me. I gasp. For the first time since my dress came off tonight, I’m nervous. I’m wet as hell and yet his leviathan isn’t budging.
Oh my god, it’s not going to fit. After all this build-up and anticipation, we’re not going to be able to have sex. It’s disappointing to say the least, but it also makes me a little sad. It wasn’t just about experiencing his beautiful dick and the fantasies I’d had after watching his video. After spending time with him, it became more about being with Loche, my teacher, a man I trust and admire.
He leans down, gently biting the back of my neck, and whispers, “I’ll be right back.” His warm breath sends a chill down my spine.
“Wait, where are you going?”
His steps thump down the hallway. What the hell is he doing? He’s only gone a few seconds. When he returns, I look over my shoulder and see that he’s holding a jar of organic coconut oil. Taking a handful, he slathers it on his cock. I’m momentarily entranced as I watch him slowly jerking his rod, the light catching the oily sheen. It really is the most beautiful dick I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
He gets into position again. I try to relax as much as possible. I fill my lungs, then slowly let it out. This time, when he pushes, the head slides right in. I jerk forward, a bit surprised by the pressure and feeling of being stuffed to capacity. It’s almost uncomfortable, how much space it takes up inside of me.
“Damn, your pussy’s tight,” he says, as he eases in more.
My eyes are pinched tight, and I bite his sheets. He takes his time, taking much care not to hurt me. When he pulls out there’s a hollowness that make me feel empty and I want him back inside, filling me up again. After a few minutes going slow, my body has gotten used to this massive intruder and now it’s not enough to go slow. I’m primed and ready for whatever he has to give. It’s time to take off the kid gloves.
“Fuck me,” I tell him.
He pauses, and I think I’ve shocked him. There’s a smile in his voice when he says, “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“Trust me, I’m ready.”
He squeezes my ass and gives it a hard slap before he thrusts harder into me. I yelp at the sudden sting of pain, but I like it.
“You feel so good,” he says.
I grab handfuls of his sheets, trying to hold on as he pounds me into the bed. Each time he does this, my engorged clit grinds into the mattress, reminding me of those times when I was just discovering my sexuality and I would masturbate by humping my pillows. It’s a thrilling, wonderful feeling to be full of cock while my clit still gets plenty of action too.
That deep, aching throb is there again, waiting in the background. The same sensation I felt when he was using his fingers in the kitchen. I’ve never had an orgasm from being penetrated before—only from outer play. Having both, it’s more intense, and way more powerful. It’s explosive.
I try to keep the orgasm that’s building up at bay by relaxing my muscles; I want it to last forever. But it comes barreling toward me. There’s no stopping it. I cry out as it takes hold. My entire body quakes, shaking the bed. Wave after wave of rampant pleasure hitting me hard enough to make sparks in my vision.
Loche lets out a feral, animal sound and pushes hard into me, bottoming out, almost painfully so, before going still. His cock pulsates as he dumps his seed into me. I can feel the warmth of it coating my insides.
I’m not sure what to do after we’re done. I don’t want to overstay my welcome so I stand up, his cum dribbling down my leg. My muscles have liquefied and my limbs feel useless, barely holding me up. I can definitely see now why some people walk funny after sex.
I look around for my dress before remembering I left it in the kitchen. Great. I’m going to have to hobble through my teacher’s house naked.
Loche lies on his side, his hair tousled and sweaty, looking at me. “Where are you going?”
He has welts on his arms from when I’d clawed at him during my first orgasm. I vaguely remember doing that, but I was half out of my mind at the time. I feel like I should apologize, but that seems a little awkward. Thank you for giving me the best finger fuck of my life. I mean, wasn’t that the point of all of this?
“Back to my dorm,” I say, trying to maintain some semblance of grace even though right now I just want to flop down on the bed, spread my legs to let the cool air in, and just revel in the afterglow of amazing sex. Believe it or not, after all of that, I could still go another round.
He laughs and rolls onto his back. “I see how it is. Use me for sex then leave,” he says, mocking insult.
I feel myself blush. “I’m not familiar with one-night-stand etiquette. I don’t know what happens next.”
This time he actually does look hurt. “One-night stand, huh?”
It’s difficult to maintain eye contact while I’m butt-ass naked and trying to cover myself with my arms while not being obvious about it, but I manage. “Isn’t that what all this was?” I ask.
He ignores the question and pats the space on the bed next to him. “You can at least lie here long enough to catch your breath.”
I tell myself not to do it. Just go back to the dorm and normal life before I get sucked into something I’m not ready for. I don’t want to develop feelings for someone I can’t have. We had a fun night. That’s it. Just walk away.
But I don’t walk away. As much as I know I should, I can’t.
I nod and climb under the covers next to him. He kisses my neck, then my lips, and then we’re at it again.
I wake up at dawn, the sun yawning above the trees outside the window. Loche has his arms around me. The room still smells like sex and it’s turning me on. We’re spooning. The clock by the bed says it’s not quite six in the morning. It takes me a full ten minutes to unravel myself from his arms. Somehow I manage to break free without waking him up. Our marathon must’ve worn him out. I’m exhausted myself, but it’s hard for me to stay now that I’m awake.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I watch him sleep for a moment. The covers had come off some time in the night. His flaccid dick lies across his leg. Even soft it’s bigger than most get when they’re fully erect. I’m so tempted to reach out and touch it.
His cheek is pressed against his pillow, giving him fish lips, and he snores lightly. He’s so adorable. I want to lean over and kiss him, but I’m afraid to wake him up. I need to get out of here before things get awkward.
Creeping down the hall, I grab my dress and put it on, holding my stiletto heels in my hand to keep them from clicking against the tile. I can’t find my underwear anywhere so I decide to leave it, and lock the door behind me when I leave.
Instead of calling a cab, I walk. It’s a comfortably cool morning, and I take that time to think about the crazy night I had. I’m sore from the pounding I received, but it’s a good kind of sore. The kind of ache I could get used to. Unfortunately, it was only one night. I can’t imagine a world where I could actually have a relationship with my teacher. Though I’m over the legal age of consent, there are rules against student-teacher relationships and we broke every single one of them last night. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over a tryst.
The cold cement feels nice on my feet. Something cool between my legs would be nice at the moment too. Some salve or balm, a frozen bag of peas, maybe. We ended up having sex two more times before falling asleep. I couldn’t get enough, and if it weren’t for the limits of my body, I would’ve gone all night with him.
As I’m turning the corner, around a wall of
perfectly trimmed shrubs, I run right into Serena. Takes me a minute to realize who it is I’m looking at and why she looks so familiar. When it finally hits me, my breath catches and I fight the urge to run the other way. She’s wearing a baby-blue, velour tracksuit, her hair pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head, while a Yorkshire terrier at the end of a leash shits on someone’s lawn. I look at the dog with its flashy blue collar and top knot, the blonde fur with dark roots, then at Serena. They look oddly similar.
Figures that she’d live in this neighborhood. That must be how Loche knew she and Chad were spoiled rich brats. They’re practically neighbors.
She immediately bursts into laughter when seeing me. “Oh my god, are you doing the walk of shame right now?”
I have a feeling my face is as bright as my dress. “No, I always walk around in heels and a dress at six o’clock in the morning,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. There’s no sense in denying what’s so completely obvious.
“Who could you have possibly hooked up with in this neighborhood? It’s all soccer dads and retired people.”
“And Chad,” I say, raising an eyebrow. I’m only guessing he lives in this neighborhood. It’s the only neighborhood of its kind in this town, and by the expensive clothes Chad wears, I doubt he’s living in the slums.
Her smile immediately shifts into a snarl and I know that I’m right. “Chad wouldn’t touch trailer trash like you with a ten-foot pole.”
“Are you sure about that?” I say. She glares at me as I walk away. I can feel the heat of her gaze burning a hole into my back until I’m finally off that street.
It probably wasn’t a good idea to poke a coiled snake, but I’m in no mood for her crap this early in the morning without caffeine.
When Loche was just my teacher, I never really thought about him outside of the classroom except to wonder what he would think about the work I’ve turned in. But now, after everything, I can’t get him off my mind. This is why I don’t date. It’s distracting. There’s a pile of work on my desk that needs to be finished for my English and math classes. But instead, I find myself pacing the floor, wishing he would call. Takes me a while to realize that he doesn’t even have my number and I don’t have his. The only number on file at school belongs to my parents, and if a teacher were to call looking for me, they’d get worried, and then they might go through my bills wondering if I’m in some sort of trouble, which would lead them to my credit card statement and my recent pornography purchase. Now I’m pacing the floor, hoping that he doesn’t call.
I need to get him off my mind. I do that by spending the weekend cleaning my dorm, and catching up on my to-be-read list of books I’ve been putting off. It helps a little. I meet up with my study group and finally whittle down my pile of homework. Things are getting accomplished. There’s hope for me yet. Maybe I could actually focus on school and date someone at the same time.
Stop thinking like that, I scold myself. I cannot start something with my teacher. Besides, he probably wouldn’t want to anyway. He has his shit together. What would he want with some struggling student when there are probably a ton of women out there with great jobs and no student loans to contend with, and no nagging parents waiting in the wings? I would be a handful. A burden. Those thoughts take the fire out of me for a while. But it doesn’t last long.
By the time Monday rolls around I’m more excited for school than I’ve been since I started kindergarten. I have to suffer though my other classes before it’s time for chemistry. Loche isn’t there yet, so I go to my desk.
Serena and her minion boyfriend are in front of me. They twist in their seats, making it impossible for me to ignore them.
“So,” Serena says. “Did you manage to sneak a peek at Mr. Johnson’s Rocket Cock, or what?”
I look down at my book so they can’t see me flush. “No, I didn’t. And I’m not interested in your dare anymore. It’s obviously not him in that video.”
“I think you did,” Serena says, with a taunting lilt in her voice that instantly puts me on edge. She takes my pencil, rolling it around on the desk. “I was thinking about you this weekend, wondering whose house you could’ve been leaving that morning. You trying to make me think you might’ve been with Chad was so obviously a diversion tactic to get me off the scent of who you were really with.” Chad smiles at me and waggles his brows. I cringe and look at Serena, who watches me carefully.
She continues, “My mom knows everyone in our neighborhood, and my dad is the head of the neighborhood watch. At first I thought maybe you were hooking up with some married man, but that doesn’t really seem like your style.” Her expression flirts somewhere between mischief and curiosity. She’s so clearly the predator and I’m her prey, like I’m trapped in some kind of web but don’t know it yet, and won’t until I realize there’s no escape.
“And since I know everyone our age living in the neighborhood, and they would never keep their dumpster-diving exploits a secret from the rest of us, I know it wasn’t them. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Mr. Johnson lives in my neighborhood. Weird, right?” she says, feigning surprise. “Who would have thought a teacher would live among the elite?”
My stomach drops onto the floor, then bounces right back up into my throat.
“I don’t care what you think, Serena. I wasn’t with Mr. Johnson,” I say.
It’s so obviously a lie, but I refuse to give in to her. She can’t prove it, and I’m not about to throw Loche under the bus.
Just then he walks into the class. He immediately looks in my direction. I keep my head down, not wanting Serena to see the emotion impossible to hide when I see his face, the longing I’ve felt since I left his home Saturday morning.
Her laughter trails behind her as she turns around to face forward, and I’m finally able to exhale.
I’m able to ignore Loche for the entire period, even though I want nothing more than to see his face again. I just can’t risk it. The way Serena keeps looking back, I know she’s trying to catch me in the lie, witness me giving him some longing look or a furtive smile. I look at her from time to time and I finally see some doubt in her expression. I give her the universal wide-eyed look of “what the hell do you want?” before she turns around to face forward.
At first I think we’ve gotten away with it. That is until the end of class while people are starting to leave and Loche says, “Georgia, could you stay behind, please? I have some questions about Friday’s assignment.”
My shoulders fold downward and I hang my head.
“I knew it,” Serena says, chuckling. “Have fun with your boy toy. I can’t imagine what Dean Meyer will think about this.”
My head snaps up. “Don’t say a fucking word, Serena. No one will believe you. I’ll deny everything and it’ll look like you’re just some evil bitch spreading vicious rumors.”
She shrugs with a smirk spread across her face. “We’ll see about that.”
When everyone is gone, Loche closes and locks the door and shuts the blinds.
“You shouldn’t do that,” I tell him.
He closes the last of the blinds. “Why not.”
“Serena knows about us. She saw me walking through your neighborhood, back to the dorms after we—you know.” My face heats up with the mention of that night.
He winks at me, seeming completely unperturbed by the threat. “I don’t think she’ll say anything once she sees the glowing A-plus she got on last week’s test.”
“I don’t trust her,” I tell him.
He comes closer to me until there’s no space left between us. His fingers comb through my hair and I just want to fall into his arms. A muscle ripples along the edge of his jaw. “You let me worry about Serena. What I want to know is why you snuck out Saturday morning without saying goodbye.”
I swallow hard. “I didn’t want things to be awkward between us.”
“Like it is now, you mean?”
Things don’t feel all that awkward at the moment. Right now
I just feel the heat rising between my legs as he presses the stiff lump beneath his khakis against my stomach.
My breathing comes in short bursts. I can’t help it. I reach out and touch his stomach and feel that his breathing is rushed too.
He presses his lips to mine. The touch of his tongue is all it takes for me to open my mouth and invite him in. There’s nothing gentle about his kiss. I feel his anguish, his desire, in every stroke of his tongue against mine as they coil together, tasting and exploring.
He reaches beneath my shirt, finding his way beneath my bra, and grabs my breasts, kneading and pinching my nipples, which sends a torrent of lubricant rushing down my leg. He lifts up my shirt, sucking one of my breasts into his mouth. His tongue flicks my nipple. Each time he does this I feel a jolt that starts in my belly button and races down to my clit.
I bite down on the sleeve of his shirt to keep from being too noisy. With one of my nipples occupied by his mouth, he uses his hands to unbutton my jeans. He dives right in, finding my cleft. “You’re already wet for me?” he says, sounding somewhat surprised, as if he weren’t the most beautiful god-like creature I’ve ever seen in my life that could summon my lust without a word.
Two fingers ease their way into me. I can tell I’m still swollen from our marathon fuck last Friday, and there’s still a hint of soreness, but all of that is nothing compared to the intense pleasure being thrust upon me.
“I’m gonna fuck you right here on this table,” he says, voice throaty and deep with want. You want my big cock inside you?”
I nod vigorously, pushing my hips forward, urging his fingers to go deeper.
“I want to hear you say it,” he demands.
I let go of his shirt with my teeth. I’m barely able to get the words out, I’m breathing so hard. “I want you to fuck me with your big cock,” I tell him, putting emphasis on the word fuck so there’s no denying that I want it fast and hard.
Again, talking dirty feels kind of strange, but I’m getting the hang of it. Plus, it makes me wetter and more uninhibited.
