by Jessa James
“I’m going to come inside you…fill you up…” he said, thrusting in and out and starting to pick up the pace. “One day, you’re going to carry my baby. We’re going to create something so beautiful together…”
“I love you, Daddy,” was all I could say. Never did I dream that I’d have the perfect relationship. I had seen many of my mother’s failed ones and been desensitized to the idea that a perfect relationship actually existed, and here I was with one.
“I love you more,” Gabe responded, and with that, he thrust harder and faster and began rubbing my clit. He pounded into me relentlessly, and my nails dug into his back and my teeth into his neck to stop myself from screaming. His family was barely a few feet away, and here we were, both about to go over the edge.
“I’m gonna come, Gabe…I’m gonna…”
“Together, baby,” he said, pressing a hard kiss onto my mouth. “Together.”
He caught my scream with his kiss, the taste of him on my lips heaven as his body jerked and pulsed inside me, my pussy milking him dry, making a claim of its own.
I might be his, but he was also mine, and with his dick balls deep inside me, his body trembling and shaking, his ring on my finger, every doubt fled, years of insecurity and wondering flew out the window and I was home. Really, really home in Gabe’s arms. My Daddy.
I went into this wanting to lose my virginity. Never did I dream that I’d get my “happily ever after.”
Did you miss the first book in this series? Read on for a sneak peek of Chapter One of Jane’s story…
The Teacher and the Virgin - Sneak Peek
Chapter One
Jane
“Who?” the note read.
I turned my head to the right and met my friend Anne’s curious green eyes. She raised an eyebrow up at me, remaining quiet. There was no talking in class, but I immediately knew what she was asking. Words weren’t needed. Not for this.
Who was I planning to lose my virginity to?
Anne and I, and eight other girls in the senior class, made a pact to lose our virginity by the end of summer. Graduation was next week, so we had a couple months to get the deed done before we all went off to college. All of us being eighteen, we’d felt it was past time, especially since going to an all girls’ school made near impossible to find worthy boys. We wanted to go to college experienced.
I didn’t want to be the last virgin in our group, but I didn’t have to worry. I didn’t have to find a boy I liked. I didn’t have to pretend to be in love, or chase after some stranger at the mall. I knew exactly who I wanted to get naked with.
I wanted Mr. Parker to take my virginity. I wanted my teacher to punch my V card.
Mr. Parker. He was only a few years older than me, and not skinny and awkward like the guys my age. No, he was all man.
While I saw him every day for my US government class, I doubted he noticed me. I was just one of his many students. One more young woman in an endless see of long hair and cherry flavored lip gloss. I existed in an ocean of khaki and plaid, the school’s overly conservative uniform. Underneath, I wore a lace bra and matching g-string panties every other day, the days I had Mr. Parker’s class.
And before class, I went to the ladies room and took off the bra. I loved the way my heavy cotton shirt rubbed my sensitive nipples, and I hoped he’d notice the hard tips that ached for his touch.
He was gorgeous and educated, his hard ass and broad shoulders made my innocent body squirm. I didn’t want to be innocent, not when I was around him. I wanted to be naughty, but I doubted he noticed me.
But I noticed him. Every inch of his well-muscled form.
Yeah, he was the one who I was going to give myself to. I had no idea how, but it was going to happen.
He was gorgeous, dark hair that was overly long for the rules of the private school. He wore a tie to please the principal, but the knot was always loose, as if he hadn’t the time to get completely dressed. I spent most of the class fantasizing about all the ways he could tie me up with that long strand of silk and turn me into a real woman.
“Ladies, I know it’s the last day of classes before exams, so we’re going to do a review on everything the final exam will cover. Colleges still look at final grades.” His deep voice made me shiver and I couldn’t stop staring at the muscles in his neck. I wanted to taste him. Which was weird, but I couldn’t stop imagining kissing him…all over.
I wasn’t worried about the final exam. This was the one class I was getting an A in, the one class where I always paid attention. How could I not stare at Mr. Parker for the entire hour? If the other girls thought I was gawking at the hot teacher, what did I care? They gawked, too. I couldn’t keep her eyes of the flexing muscles in his forearms. He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirts to write on the board, and I always had to go back and read what he wrote after. I couldn’t stop staring at his hands.
Even Molly seemed hypnotized when he moved, and I was pretty sure she was a lesbian.
He was that hot. But none of the other girls would have him. No. If he was going to have one of us, if he was going to take a young, virgin pussy, then it was going to be mine.
I spent the entire year watching his ass as he walked back and forth lecturing. I studied the veins in the back of his hand as he wrote on the board. I studied his mouth and wondered what his lips would feel like against mine.
When the bell rang at the end of every class, I left the room with wet panties and hard nipples.
His class was the best part of my day. I even raised my hand to answer questions and preened when he smiled at me when I gave the correct answer. I wanted to please him, which was another odd sensation for me. I wasn’t a people-pleaser. But for Mr. Parker? Well, I wasn’t quite sure where I would draw the line, but I wanted to find out.
With Anne’s note in my hand, I stared up at Mr. Parker from my seat in the third row. He was trying to be stern, but he was probably just as ready to be done for the summer as we were. The school was small, one of those girls’ prep schools for rich parents who wanted a sheltered education for their privileged daughters. Yes, we always got teased about the usual stereotype, how we were crazy, spoiled, entitled brats with issues. The school had kept me from boys my age, which is what my parents wanted, but their plan backfired. It put me in front of the one man I craved.
Yes, I wanted a man.
I didn’t want to be fucked by a boy who had no clue what he was doing. I wanted Mr. Parker.
Oh yes. I shifted in my chair, trying to ease the ache in my pussy at the thought of him filling me up. I wanted him to take my cherry, to split me wide open—his cock would be big—and he’d do it right.
While he continued to talk about the three branches of government, his smooth velvety voice only made dark carnal thoughts, wild fantasies, fill my mind.
“Fuck me,” I’d tell him, glancing at the desk just behind him.
Yes, the desk. I fantasized about that desk almost as much as I did Mr. Parker. I was no longer the good student, but one who’d been bad. Very bad.
I’d be bent over his hard desk with my plaid uniform skirt barely hiding my ass. I’d have had to undo the top few buttons of my prim white shirt so he could see that I wasn’t wearing a bra, my nipples tightening as they touched the cold wood.
A shiver would run down my spine when his finger grazed my lace panties. I would feel the heat pool there, making the damp fabric cling to my folds.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” the familiar velvety voice would say. His breath would warm my neck as he leaned over me, dominating me. I’d squeeze my legs together to try and ease the growing ache, but it wouldn’t work. The press of his hand against the lips of my pussy would have me crying out.
“You’re just wearing a thong in my class and no bra.” His voice would be a mix of shock and mischief, and I would no doubt blush as he reached around and cupped an exposed breast.
Teachers weren’t supposed to behave this way, I’d think, eve
n as his other hand would come down on my ass in a harsh swat. They weren’t supposed to reprimand naughty schoolgirls over their desks, but I would wiggle my hips because I’d want the spanking he’d give. I’d push my pert bottom out for more, for anything he’d give me.
“Do you know what happens to girls when they’re naughty?” he’d ask.
“They get punished.”
“That’s right,” he breathed against my neck. “But you’re extra naughty, so you’ll get my hand instead of the ruler. I want to make sure I can feel every single count.”
Nothing about the way Mr. Parker would look at me would be soft. He would be like a beast with its prey. His look would be hungry, with me the answer to quenching his thirst. I would shiver again when his finger started to rub painfully, slowly against the gusset of my thong. His other hand would start to move against my ass cheeks, my bare flesh available for him.
“After your ass is nice and red, then you’ll show me that you’re a good girl again and suck my cock. Nice and deep.” He would rub a finger over me, slip the tip just inside my virgin heat as he held me in place over his desk. “And then I’m going to taste your naughty pussy and make you come.”
I moaned at the thought of him teaching me exactly how he liked it, of him dominating me, making me his. The mangled sound stirred me from my fantasy. I shifted in my seat again, trying to rub my thighs against my swollen clit.
All around me were my classmates, but they seemed not to notice the sound I’d made just thinking about Mr. Parker.
While he was the Civics and Government teacher in this small, private school, he’d finished law school last year and was studying for the bar exam. Being a teacher wasn’t his career, like the other teachers who’d been at the school for decades. He was on the fast track to becoming a lawyer. He should have been stiff and stodgy; all the teachers were. Safe even, but nothing about the way he stared at me spelled “safe.”
Sometimes, I imagined that he stared, that his gaze traced the curve of my leg or lingered on my lips. I dreamed that he wanted me, masturbated in his shower thinking about taking me over his desk. I dreamed that he couldn’t control himself when it came to me, that I was so beautiful, so perfect that he couldn’t say no.
No imagination needed on my end. I definitely wouldn’t say no.
Mr. Parker was nine years older than I was – yes, I stalked him – and a man of that age had years of experience I could only dream about. That easily spelled trouble for me, but I wasn’t running away from it. I wanted him and if I had to be punished because of it, I was fine with that, as long as Mr. Parker was doing the punishing.
Anne was writing something down on a piece of paper while the others worked on a practice test and whispered about what they were doing over the summer. I couldn’t care less.
Why would I, when the only thing I wanted was standing right in front of me?
I spun around when another piece of paper hit my head. Anne raised and lowered her eyebrows at me. I realized my imagination had run wild again. I should’ve known better. Having almost-sex with Mr. Parker would never happen in real life. I saw him every day in class, and he’d never want anything to do with me. I was his student and too young. Yes, I was eighteen, but still...
The whole situation was hopeless. A man like him wanted a woman, not a girl. He would want woman who was experienced and worldly and didn’t look like a lost puppy with a leash around its neck. I tried to brush the thought aside. It made me sad because I couldn’t be alluring and experienced unless I fucked someone else and the only one I wanted was him.
I tried as best as I could to not think about it anymore, as I smoothed out the paper Anne had thrown.
“You’re undressing our teacher with your eyes. Don’t deny.”
“Shut up”. I quickly scribbled down before I passed the note back to Anne. She passed it back seconds later.
“Mr. Parker’s too old.”
I bit my bottom lip. That was exactly why he was so attractive; I got hot for an older man. I got hot for him and I quickly wrote my thoughts down.
“I bet he knows what to do with his c—”
I hesitated writing the last word. I was getting wet just thinking about writing a fucking four-letter word. It shouldn’t have been a big deal – writing down the word “cock”. What was I getting so worked up over? My classmates reading the note? Or worse, Mr. Parker?
Cock. Cock. Cock.
Cock. Cock. Cock.
See, I could say the word in my mind over and over again. Why couldn’t I just write the damn thing down?
Cock. Cock. Cock.
Oh, God. My tongue definitely needed to be drowned in holy water.
“I bet he knows what to do with his cock.” I quickly passed the note, letting out a sigh of relief that I finally wrote the damn word down.
Jane – 1. Cock – 0.
“You’re crazy. He’s a teacher. You’ll be a virgin forever. He’ll never touch you.”
I pursed my lips when I read Anne’s note. I didn’t want to admit it, but the note stung, especially since I’d graduate next week and never see him again. It hurt because it was true. There was no way someone as gorgeous, smart, and experienced as Mr. Parker would want anything to do with an eighteen-year old Catholic school girl whose only sexual experience was with her own hand. I really was a virgin in all aspects, and the cold, harsh truth started to sink in.
How was I going to lose my virginity if I didn’t know the first thing about sex? Sure, I knew how to pleasure myself and some porn videos seemed easy enough to follow, but would the real thing be as easy to do? The only dicks I’d seen in person were my cousins’ back when our parents would make us swim naked together when we were four years old. I was a cold, lonely—and horny—virgin.
“We graduate in a week.” I passed the note to Anne, bit my lip.
Now, I was just writing down random things in the hopes that she wouldn’t see right through me and realize how affected I was by what she’d just said.
“He’ll never touch you.”
It stung, really. I’d been crushing hard on Mr. Parker since the start of the school year and now it was almost over. What would I do when I couldn’t see him every day?
“He’s hot.”
“You ARE crazy. There’s no way you’re having sex with a teacher.”
My reply to her was easy, and the truth. “I don’t want anyone else. He’s the one who’s going to take my virginity.”
Making it happen was impossible.
My jaw dropped to the floor when I saw Mr. Parker walking towards me. Was my deepest fantasy finally coming true? Of course not. Before I knew it, he took the notes in my hands and skimmed through them.
Oh. My. God.
I glanced at Anne and her cheeks were as red as her hair. She hadn’t been the one who’d written all those things in the notes. She wasn’t the one who was going to be in trouble. I was.
This was the perfect time for the floor to open and swallow me whole. This would be social suicide – my classmates finding out I wanted to fuck my teacher. Telling Anne in a note was one thing, but this? God, I’d never live it down.
I didn’t even want to think about what my parents would say when I was sent to the office. They were absent most, if not all the time, and only seemed to care when it was to reprimand or ground me. I spent about half the school year living with the maid as they travelled Europe, or Africa, or wherever the hell they were now. Knowing I wanted to have sex with a teacher would make them freak.
I closed my eyes and waited for him to read it aloud like he usually did when he caught us passing notes.
Holding my breath, I looked up at him through my lashes.
His dark eyes were pinned to mine as he read the note. “Can’t wait to be done with school. No more uniforms,” he said, his voice loud for all to hear as he walked back to the front of the room.
I whipped my head up when those words came out of his mouth. He read it, knew the truth and didn’t giv
e me away?
I was safe from my classmates, but not from him. The way he looked at me curiously was a dead giveaway. I couldn’t read him though, and it was freaking me out and exciting me at the same time. He knew how much I wanted him now. He knew! But he looked emotionless. Was he disgusted or infuriated? Was he even shocked, or was this a common occurrence with his students? Would he send me to the principal’s office? Did he think the note was a joke? Or worse? Did he think it was real and just had absolutely no interest? Maybe he had a smoking hot model for a girlfriend, someone who knew her way around his cock, who knew how to please him.
I didn’t know anything about what to do with a man. All I knew was I wanted him.
He raised his brow, and the blush that surfaced on my cheeks was automatic. Thankfully, the bell rang, and Anne and I stood up from our seats in a rush. I grabbed Anne by the arm and almost ran towards the door. I was almost free from further humiliation until I heard my name being called.
“Jane,” said that ever-familiar voice that haunted my imagination. When my friend stopped to stand beside me, he added, “You can go ahead, Anne. I just want to have a word with Jane.”
The rest of my classmates filed out of the room and Anne followed suit. When it was finally just the two of us, I clasped my hands together and waited for the sermon. I wanted to hug myself. No good could come out of my teacher reading a note basically saying I wanted him to fuck me. Was thinking dirty thoughts enough for disciplinary action? Could I be expelled? My heart sunk. Graduation was next week. There was no way—
He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I want you right here, one hour after graduation.”
I didn’t want to overthink more than what I was already doing, but the way he looked at me made it seem that I had nothing to worry about. Instead, I had everything to worry about. I waited for him to say something more and watched as his eyes trailed from my ankle socks, up to my plaid skirt to my white blouse, then finally met my surprised gaze.
