by Madison Faye
“Fuck, that sucks. And on your birthday too?”
I stick my head out of the bathroom, toothbrush between my lips, and shrug. Kempton pulls the covers off and sits up in bed, hugging her knees. Her long, gorgeous red hair tumbles around her face and she rubs her green eyes.
“Happy birthday, by the way.”
I spit, rinsing my mouth and turning off the light, bathing us both in darkness before I step back into the room.
“Thanks.”
“Wait what time is it?”
“A little after two.”
“What the fuck? How long is his freaking detention?”
I blush, turning away, even though it’s dark. “Oh, I went to the library after. I was up, figured I’d get some work done anyways.”
Kempton snorts, shaking her head. “On your birthday? Dude, that’s… yikes.”
“Oh, here, I got something for my favorite roomie.”
“I’m your only roomie.”
She laughs. “Well then, lucky you.”
She suddenly clicks on the lights, and I quickly look away, grabbing a hoodie from my bed and yanking it over my head. I bunch the hood around my neck, praying it covers the marks from Oliver’s mouth.
Kempton snorts as I turn back, eyeing me.
“You look like you just rolled out of bed.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks. Just a long ass day.”
“Well, happy birthday.”
She hands me a wrapped box with a silver bow on it and card attached.
“You didn’t have to, you know.”
She grins. “Yeah I did.”
“Thanks, Kemp.”
I open the card first, which just says “You’re legal!” inside, scrawled in Kempton’s curly, swirly handwriting. I laugh, hoping it covers the blush on my face thinking about earlier as I open the box.
“Kempton!”
The first thing I see is tits. Big, enormous, fake-looking tits. And above it, the owner of the tits has her painted lips wide open while she holds a big, hard cock inches from them.
It’s a porn magazine. Kempton’s gotten me porn. She howls with laughter at my blushing face.
“Seriously?” I groan.
“Hell yeah! You’re legal now, bitch! There’s more in there too.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t want more porn, Kemp.”
“It’s not just porn, jeez.”
I take the first magazine out, cringing at the “Double D Dick-Suckers” name emblazoned at the top, only to find another one called “Rough Luv” underneath featuring a cowboy wearing just a hat and a holding a rifle over his junk. Beneath that, and the handful of other gross and tacky porn, I find a pack of cigarettes, a lighter with a candle on it, and five scratch lotto tickets.
“Right, because I’m eighteen,” I sigh.
“Yup!” Kempton cackles. “So now you can legally own and buy all this shit.”
“Oh, goodie, I can’t wait to take up smoking while I page through gross porn mags.”
“Don’t forget the lotto tickets. If you win, I want half, by the way.”
“Kempton, your father was on the cover of Time Magazine and Forbes in the last six months.”
She grins. “And your dad owns a yacht big enough to rescue the city of New York from a flood. What’s your point?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Fine, we split the ten bucks I might win.”
“Damn right we will.”
She grins. “You see the cock on the cover of that first one?”
I blush crimson.
“I mean, hello, right?”
I shake my head, laughing. “What do you mean?”
She arches a brow at me. “What do I mean? I mean it’s fucking huge.”
I swallow as my eyes dart to the magazine, my face burning red. Okay, it’s big, but the thing is, the one I saw, and felt, and sucked, and got fucked by earlier tonight?
…Well, Oliver Bard is much bigger than the porn cock on the cover of Double-D Dick-Suckers.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Kempton rolls her eyes. “Right, I forgot you’ve never seen one.”
I blush, saying nothing as I crawl into bed.
“Hey, look at me.”
“Huh?”
I turn, and immediately regret it as I see Kempton’s green eyes burning into me suspiciously.
“Wait, why do you look like you just got laid?”
I laugh, quickly.
…too quickly, and Kempton catches it. Her eyes light up, and her jaw drops as she stares at me.
“You dirty bitch!” she gasps.
“Kemp, no, it’s… you’re way off.”
“Bullshit I am! You little slut!”
My brow furrows. “Fuck off, Kempton.”
She rolls her eyes, waving me off. “Oh, calm down, I just mean I’m impressed! I mean you, getting laid? I wonder who—”
Her eyes suddenly light up even brighter, and she stares at me.
“No. Fucking. Way.”
“Kempton—”
“Professor Bard?!” She gasps, and my face goes white as I violently shake it side to side
“Kempton, no,” I say quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “No, absolutely no—”
“Hey Ana?”
I pause, swallowing again as I force myself to look at her. Kempton smirks
“You’re a shitty liar, for the record.”
“Kempton, I did not sleep with Professor Bard!”
“Uh-huh,” she drawls, eying me. “Whatever you say.”
“Well, that’s what I say,” I mutter, turning away and yanking the covers up over me.
“I’m just saying, I’m actually impressed. I mean, you got laid, and you picked the hottest freaking teacher imaginable to—”
“Can we just go to sleep now?” I spit.
I hear her sigh. “Fine, jeez.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, but Ana?”
“Yeah?”
I sit up, turning to look over my shoulder at my roommate, only to see her grinning wickedly at me.
“Was he big?”
I groan, throwing a spare pillow at her as she giggles and switches off the bedside light. I yank the covers up, burying myself under them as I take my cell phone out to set an alarm. But just as I’m doing that, my phone buzzes with a text, from a number I don’t know.
I miss you already.
I blush, and instantly, I know who it is.
How’d you get my #??
Magic teacher powers.
I grin to myself, and another text comes through.
From the class registry.
Right, duh.
I lick my lips, grinning and feeling just… giddy that he’s texted me.
I had a lot of fun tonight.
His reply is instant.
Same. A LOT of fun. And all I want is more of you.
I blush, biting my lip.
Oh really? ;)
VERY really.
I swallow, feeling that naughty, teasing feeling burning up inside of me.
How badly?
I send, feeling my face burn at my own forwardness, and when I see the little dots of him typing back, I feel a tingle creep through me.
I could show you.
What do u mean?
Are you alone right now?
My pulse quickens, the heat pulsing between my thighs as I quickly respond.
Yes.
It’s only a half lie. I mean, I’m alone in that no one is reading over my shoulder. There’s nothing for half a minute, before suddenly, my phone lights up as an image comes through.
…And I gasp.
It’s his cock. It’s Oliver’s fist wrapped tight around his thick, rock-hard, huge cock. I mean a full half of it is sticking out above his fist, and the big round head is so swollen and glistening that I actually lick my lips as the pulse of heat throbs through my core. Yeah, Oliver is much bigger than the porno-dude on the magazine.
I’m still staring at it, blushing
and feeling the heat pooling between my legs, when another text comes through.
Show me, baby girl.
My face goes scarlet. I know what he wants.
…And I know I’m about to give it to him.
Blushing, licking my lips nervously and excitedly, I hook my thumbs into my sleep shorts and push them down, kicking them down and off. I shiver heatedly, feeling so bad as I spread my legs and bring the phone down with the camera app open. I take a deep breath and click.
Crap.
It’s completely dark under the covers, so obviously, even with the glow from the screen, so is the photo. I bring the phone back up and turn on the flash this time before I slide it back down between my spread legs.
I take a deep breath, I shiver wickedly, and I take the picture.
“You are so taking nudes for your professor right now.”
I jump at the sound of Kempton’s voice from across the room, blushing bright red as I slam the phone face down.
“I am not!”
“Bullshit” she giggles. “What, are you taking landscape shots under your covers at 2:30 in the morning with the flash on?”
I groan, covering my burning face with my hands.
“Good night Kempton.”
“Goodniiiight,” she calls back in a sleepy sing-song voice. I give it another minute before I pick the phone back up and glance at the picture I took.
…Okay, it’s kind of hot, and I blush a I drink in the sight of my own bare pussy—glistening and wet, and still so pink from earlier. I open up the text messages with Oliver, and quickly send it off, my heart racing.
I’m calling you. Right now.
I quickly text back.
Wait, my roommate is still up.
But instantly, his number pops up on my screen, and I swallow as I answer it and quickly bring it to my ear.
“I know you can’t talk, baby girl,” he purrs, his deep voice like liquid sex in my ears.
“So just listen. You’ve got me so fucking hard right now, and I’m stroking it, replaying everything from earlier in my head. Fuck, Ana, you felt so fucking good.”
He groans, and I bite my lip, squeezing my legs together and knowing he’s stroking his cock with me on the phone.
“Touch your pussy for me, baby,” he growls. “I saw how wet you are. I want to hear you play with it for me.”
I bite back my moan, nodding and letting my heavy breathing tell him what words can’t as I slide my hand down. My fingers tease over my tummy, and I push lower, gasping oh so quietly as they slide through my slick, wet lips.
“Touch yourself, Ana. Play with that pretty little pussy for me.”
He grunts, and I bite back another moan as my fingers roll over my clit. This is so risky with Kempton across the room. But I’m moving so slowly, and not making a sound. At least, I hope to God I’m not.
“Make yourself come, baby girl,” he growls, making me gasp softly.
“I can’t,” I whisper as quietly as anyone has ever whispered before.
“My roommate is still—”
“It wasn’t a discussion.”
I groan, biting back the gasp of pleasure as his firm words and my own fingers send pleasure through my core. Fuck is it hot when he talks like that. When he commands like that.
“Touch your pussy, Anastasia,” he purrs into the phone. “Play with that pretty little cunt and make it come for me.”
…And I do.
I bite back the moan as I push my fingers wetly through my folds, rolling the hard nub of my clit before sinking two fingers deep inside. My breath catches, and my hips rock against my hand as the pleasure ripples through me. I pause for one second, slipping my head from under the covers and going still. But all I hear is the slow, rhythmic breathing that lets me know Kempton is asleep, and with that, I slide back under the sheets, and my hand delves back between my legs.
“Are you touching yourself, baby girl?”
“Yes.”
“Keep doing it,” he growls. “Play with that little cunt for me. Is it nice and wet?”
“Yes,” I moan breathlessly, rolling my clit under my fingertips again and again.
There’s a low grunt on the other end of the phone, and when I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of his breathing, and of his pleasure as he strokes his cock for me, I imagine him here, in the bed with me.
“You didn’t shower when you got home, did you?”
I groan, shaking my head.
“No, sir,” I gasp quietly.
Oliver grunts. “I could tell from the picture you sent. Do you know why?”
I can only whimper in response.
“Because I could see my cum dripping out of your pretty little pussy. I could see the mess I made of your cunt. You can still feel me there, can’t you. You can feel how sticky your pussy is with my cum.”
I moan as quietly as I can, pleasure flooding through me as I slide my fingers deep and grind my clit against my palm. He’s right, I can feel his sticky cum still dripping out of me and knowing that it’s his cum that I’m rubbing into my clit has me so close to falling off that edge.
“My cock is still wet from you, Ana,” he growls. “I’m stroking it up and down, and it’s nice and big for you, baby girl.”
I gasp, my pulse racing faster and my body starting to tremble and seize up.
“Oliver…”
“Come for me, Ana,” he grunts, his groans getting louder in my ear. “Make that pussy come for me. Make a fucking mess for me.”
My fingers slide deep inside, curling right against that perfect spot just as I grind my clit into my hand, and when I hear him groan so deeply with his own release, I can’t hold back anymore.
I shove my free hand against my mouth, muffling my cries as I come again and again and again, my whole body trembling and shaking as I listen to Oliver Bard growl his own climax into my ear.
“Anastasia,” he growls lowly, purring out my name.
“Did you…”
“Yes,” he grunts, and I moan as I give my clit one last stroke with my fingertips.
“Happy birthday, baby girl,” Oliver says quietly, making my heart soar.
“Best birthday ever,” I whisper back.
“See you tomorrow, Ana.”
9
Oliver
My jaw twitches, my eyes narrowing as they sweep over the sea of faces staring back at me from their desks.
…She’s not here.
There’s a ball of fire burning inside of me as I whirl back to the blackboard, grabbing a piece of chalk. Though the architecture is old at Winchester, most classrooms have dry-erase whiteboards, if not huge-size touch screens for lessons. The blackboard and chalk was a personal request from me when I was hired. My mother was a school teacher, which is part of the reason I’m here even doing this. Blackboards worked for her, and they’ll damn well work for me.
But still the ball of fire burns inside of me, because in the sea of students sitting behind me ready for the lesson of the day, Ana isn’t among them.
Part of me growls, wondering if I pushed too hard last night. I wonder if she’s scared, or nervous to see me again. Or worse, that she regrets what we did. I snarl as I stare at the board, ignoring one little prick when he calls out asking which page of the textbook we’ll be starting on this morning. I want to rage, or yell, or just fucking leave the room and storm right over to her dorm to make sure she’s okay—
The door opens, and when I whirl to it, and see her standing there blushing, biting her lip with a little smile hidden behind it, it’s like a calm settles over me. I exhale, not even realizing I’ve been holding my breath. My eyes meet hers, and she blushes a little deeper as she steps into the room.
“Sorry I’m late, Professor Bard.”
For the sake of the room full of gossipy kids who spot everything, I keep my face neutral.
“Have a seat, Ms. Penworth.”
Anastasia’s eyes flick to mine for half a second as she scurries to the free
desk at the front of the room facing me, a little fire in her gaze before she looks away. She sits, quickly pulling her notebook and pen out as I turn back to the board.
“Page eighty-nine,” I growl lowly, hearing the rustle of textbooks behind me. “We’ll begin with FDR’s New Deal and its impact on—”
I turn, and suddenly, I don’t know words anymore. I don’t know how to speak. Because right there, front and center sitting primly at her desk, is Anastasia. Except, that whole “primly” thing is only from the waist up, where her back is straight, her hands are clasped in front of her, and her smile is innocent and wide.
…Beneath the desk is another story.
Because under her desk, prim little Anastasia Penworth, wearing her plaid skirt, knee-high socks, and flats, has her legs spread wide apart, giving me a totally open, totally unobstructed view of her very bare, very panty-less, very pink, tempting, pretty little pussy.
An animal inside of me roars.
I stumble for a moment, searching for words and trying to tell my eyes to look away from her gorgeous cunt, before I finally find my sanity. I clear my throat, somehow dragging my eyes away from her.
“Now, who can tell me about FDR’s cabinet at the time, and their input into—”
Fuck.
I make the mistake of looking back at her, and this time, she’s pushing it even more. Ana’s still smiling at me, twirling a pen in her hand. But her other hand has dropped under the desk, and as I watch, she slides it teasingly up her bare, creamy thigh.
Fuck, I’m in trouble. And I think it’s fair to say Anastasia is not having second thoughts about last night. In fact, it would appear I may have created a monster.
I stumble for words, finally just nodding at Matthew Klop at the back of the room to just start reading the textbook out loud for the class. My eyes burn into Anastasia, dipping down to watch as her hand creeps higher and higher, until her fingertips brush her silky pink lips. I groan, leaning back against my desk and gripping the edge of it with white knuckles as I watch her.
