Taylor lay on her bed, resting one hand on her stomach and the other on her thigh. Her breathing became ragged as images of her brief session with Mr. Smith faded in and out of her mind: his large, sensuous hands traveling over her sinewy back, falling down and caressing her legs and rear as she sat on top of him, riding him desperately. It was so wrong, but when he had emptied himself into her, she hadn’t had a care in the world.
She slid her hand from her thigh to her underwear, already feeling the dampness seeping through them. Her eager fingers dipped into herself and she stifled a moan. Her parents were in the room across from hers.
Her other hand found her right breast and began rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Mr. Smith… Oh, God… Mr. Smith… Taylor fingered herself shamelessly, picturing Mr. Smith’s delicious weight on top of her and his cock thrusting deep within her. Her fingers massaged her clit hard and she felt herself beginning to convulse. She moved her hand from her breast down to her fount and jammed two fingers inside as she climaxed, pumping herself with two fingers and rubbing her clit with her other hand. To suppress her cries, she bit her lip until it began to pulse with pain and she stiffened herself against the bed. Her breathing was hot and heavy and seemed to echo throughout the room as her climax slowly began to fade. Riding on her erotic euphoria, she fell asleep, dreaming of her next afterschool session with Mr. Smith.
For the next few days, Taylor found it increasingly difficult to concentrate in History class. She tried distracting herself with her work, but in the end, always found herself looking up at Mr. Smith. Sometimes, he looked back, a knowing look in his eyes. She would always blush and quickly look back down, hiding her creeping smile. There was always a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach now, a mixture of remorse and paranoia. What if the other students knew? Did they know? Was she making it obvious? God, they already knew, didn’t they?…
At this point, she was almost afraid to be alone with him again, although she craved his body almost everyday. Mr. Smith was perfectly nonchalant with her during class to the point where she often wondered if it had actually happened. Had they really had sex? It almost seemed like a dream sometimes. Did she mean anything to him now? Often times, he almost seemed to intentionally ignore her. She always tried to get out of the room as quickly as possible when the bell rang.
Friday afternoon, at the end of class, Taylor quickly packed up her books and made for the door, passing Mr. Smith at the front of the room.
She froze and watched as the last students exited the room, leaving her alone with Mr. Smith. Her breathing suddenly quickened and she turned to him. He was erasing his lesson on the whiteboard, not looking at her directly.
“Yes, Mr. Smith?”
“How are you?”
Taylor didn’t know how to answer. It seemed too random a question. For the past week, he hadn’t spoken to her one-on-one. He hadn’t even called on her to participate in class discussions.
“Um, fine,” she answered simply and quietly.
Finally, he looked at her, that laidback expression masking something darker in his eyes.
“Come here.” He closed the door and locked it before making his way over to his desk. He stayed standing. She followed him and sat in a chair on the other side of the desk. She glanced to her left and swallowed uneasily, looking at the spot where they had…
“Make yourself comfortable. Put your bag down.”
Hesitantly, Taylor obeyed and set her bag down beside her seat. Her fingers began twitching subtly in her lap. It was a chore trying to control her erratic breathing. She bit the inside of her cheek and made an effort to look confident by meeting his gaze levelly.
“What’s –” She cleared her throat. “What’s this about?”
Mr. Smith didn’t say anything for a moment, then extended his hand over the desk. When Taylor did nothing, he beckoned to her hand with his fingers. Confused, Taylor slowly put her hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around her hand and pulled her up and around his desk to him. She stood before him uneasily, his hand sending involuntary shivers up her arm.
“Mr. Smith, I- ”
He finally stood and pressed her against his desk with his waist.
“This has been a stressful week, Taylor. Do you know how hard it is to teach when I have you in my class?” Before she could answer, he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her mouth lustfully. He lifted her onto the desk and she responded enthusiastically, wrapping her legs around him. She felt papers, pencils and books behind her and heard them scuffle and fall from the desk as Mr. Smith pushed her backward.
His eager lips dipped down to her neck as he grabbed the bottom of her shirt, lifting it up above her head. Still under-experienced, Taylor felt self-conscious about her half-naked body and her limbs shook nervously. His languishing kisses traveled down to her stomach and reached her jeans.
“Taylor.” His voice was dry and caught her attention immediately. “Relax.”
Was it that obvious? It was only then that she felt her arms and legs shaking. Yes, it was. She nodded and he smiled, sliding her jeans and her underwear down her smooth legs. She shifted around the desk uneasily.
“I said ‘relax.’” Mr. Smith’s tone was authoritative, making it hard to resist
“I can’t help it. What are you doing?”
Mr. Smith smiled over at her and positioned his head between her legs.
“As your teacher, I am telling you to relax. Lie down.”
His commanding tone aroused her and she did as she was told, leaning back and resting on her elbows. She closed her eyes as she felt his hands gliding over her thighs and her pussy. When he started sucking on her clit, she gasped and her body twitched once. Taylor looked down at him, watching him suck on her clitoris with soft, wet noises and she moaned loudly. Her moans sounded so loud to her, she was afraid a passing student or teacher would hear. His tongue wrapped around her clit and flicked it quickly, making her quiver and quake. But to hell with everyone else; let them hear! She gripped the edges of the desk tightly, the pads of her fingers turning pale white from the pressure. Then, as he teased her clit, he slipped two fingers into her pussy. Slowly, he thrust his fingers into her and continued to lick her hungrily, sending her over the edge.
“Oh, God. Yes. Mr. Smith. Oh, Mr. Smith. I feel – Oh. God. I’m coming. Yes, I’m coming!”
She arched her back violently and writhed in ecstasy as wave after wave of her climax hit her core. Even when she had finished, he continued licking her and pumping his fingers into her, causing her to convulse sporadically with over stimulation. Her eyes closed, she felt his fingers exit her and his mouth leave her pussy. A moment later, she felt a slick finger touch her mouth. She slowly opened her eyes and saw his fingers sliding across her lips, her cum still on them. Mr. Smith slid his fingers into her mouth and she slowly licked off her own juices, sensuously wrapping her tongue around his fingers. The taste seemed to serve as an aphrodisiac and she felt readier than ever.
Taylor rose and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him closer to her.
“Now, please. I can’t take it anymore.” Her hands reached the top of his pants and fumbled at the belt. He simply stood against her, smiling at her desperate eagerness to continue. She flung the belt away and pulled his pants and boxers down. He stepped out of them and pressed himself against her wet fount. Taylor looked up at him, her vision hazy from the overwhelming feelings coursing through her veins, and saw his jaw tighten. His composure seemed to be slipping. She smiled.
She wrapped her arms under his and braced herself as she felt his swollen head begin to enter her, teasing her, making her go insane with pleasure. She concentrated on the soft cotton fabric of his sweater to keep from exploding. Suddenly, her pleasure gave way to anxiety. He had locked the door, right? What were they even doing? Her body froze against the desk and she looked up at Mr. Smith. His eyes closed for a long moment, then opened again and met her gaze. She gasped. What were they doing?
“No.” Quickly, she pulled her hands away from him and supported herself defensively on his desk. What am I doing?
“We – we can’t do this. What are we doing? Oh, my God.” She tried pulling herself away from him, but he grabbed her arm with one hand and her waist with the other.
“No, no, we can’t do this. We can’t do this!” She suddenly felt so filthy, so vile, as if she had been bathing in a muddy bog.
“Taylor… Taylor!” Thrashing, she felt both of his strong hands on her wrists. He pulled her toward him. Scared, she stopped struggling.
“Sh… Calm down. Relax. It’s all right. You are with me now.”
“But what are we doing? What am I doing here?” Her eyes glistened with tears. They fell when she closed her eyes.
Mr. Smith said nothing. She felt his head against her pussy again and she shuddered, turning her head away. She couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t look at him now. The shame had finally hit her.
She made to speak, but Mr. Smith began to move against her again. A throaty sigh escaped her lips and she bit down on her lower lip hard. The familiar pulsing in her lip aroused her, reminding her of her lonely nights in bed with only her own fingers to satisfy her longing. Suddenly, he entered her and she let out a low groan.
There were no words now, only the erotic rocking between them.
His pace quickened, creating a desperate, rhythmic tapping of flesh between them. The desk rocked. Taylor whimpered. Mr. Smith grunted quietly.
She clenched her teeth and supported herself with her hands on his arms. She wanted to remove his sweater, but she didn’t have the strength to. The pleasure seemed to dampen her coordination. She felt that she would fall if she let go of him for even a moment. Mr. Smith’s thrusts became rougher. He was now ramming her pussy atop the desk, making her moan, groan and periodically yell. His hands covered her breasts and he found her mouth easily, sucking her lips, latching on to her eager tongue.
Without waiting for her to react, he pulled out of her and turned her over so that her breasts and stomach pressed against the warm surface of his desk. She didn’t have time to protest as she felt his cock enter her pussy from behind. A high moan leapt from her throat as Mr. Smith groaned into her. He resumed his frantic pace, making Taylor’s upper thighs sore from ramming into the edge of the desk.
“Oh, Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith…” She looked around at him and he lowered his head and kissed her. Their bodies moved together. She met his every thrust with a carnal vigor. Taylor’s breathing became more ragged. “Mm, I think I’m almost there.” All she could manage was a hoarse whisper, to which Mr. Smith replied with a low growl. His hands held onto her waist tightly, pulling her toward him with each thrust.
The slight creaking of the desk from their combined weight was drowned out by their moans and heavy breaths. Mr. Smith was no longer quiet and he began muttering under his breath. Dazed, Taylor couldn’t make out the words, but somehow knew they were dirty in nature.
His thrusts became less even as he hit the mark and Taylor climaxed. She put her hand over her mouth and yelled into the sweaty palm of her hand as he continued to ram himself into her. She could feel his cock stiffening and suddenly felt his body tense behind her. He groaned through clenched teeth and gripped her waist hard, causing her to moan with a mixture of pleasure and pain.
The room was still for a long moment as their climaxes receded. The only distinct sound was their combined breathing, slowing down. He pulled out of her, making her feel suddenly empty, and pulled her upright on the desk so that she was seated facing him. He smiled down at her and she smiled back lazily, a feeling of exhaustion washing over her.
Mr. Smith brushed her hair from her face. “Are you all right now?”
Taylor gave him a smile, which turned into a small laugh. She wrapped her arms around his torso, placing the side of her face against the soft cotton fabric of his sweater. He responded by holding her naked back. She breathed in – a mixture of deodorant and sweat.
“My parents will be gone next Friday and Saturday.”
She didn’t have to look up to know he was smiling.