A Memorable Assignment

A Memorable Assignment A Memorable Assignment

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

After Kya's latest encounter with her sexy creative writing teacher, she found out his secret, but it's not enough to keep her away. She has a plan to win him back. (Hey, you guys told me not to stop writing erotica, so here ya go!)

Summary

After Kya's latest encounter with her sexy creative writing teacher, she found out his secret, but it's not enough to keep her away. She has a plan to win him back. (Hey, you guys told me not to stop writing erotica, so here ya go!)

Content

Submitted: January 03, 2013

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Content

Submitted: January 03, 2013

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He doesn’t want to have feelings for me.  And I don’t want to have feelings for him.  Ever since I found out my gorgeous creative writing teacher, who I happen to have slept with twice, is actually married, I’ve been avoiding even eye contact with him.  I don’t even raise my hand in his class anymore.  I mean, I never meant to be a homewrecker.  He could’ve warned me ahead of time that he was already taken by some faintly pretty middle-aged woman, rather than waiting to blurt this confession out until I was standing up against a hotel room wall feeling the muscles of my vagina close around him desperately.

The problem is, not wanting to have feelings for someone doesn’t get rid of the feelings.And I still want Mr. Winston…badly.  When he talks in class, I still can’t help but to think that he is the most brilliant man I have ever met.  I also happen to know he’s pretty good in bed.  No, I don’t want to be a homewrecker, but if the home isn’t wrecked, per se, then is it really so bad?  Would it really be so bad to want to feel him thrusting gently inside me again, even just one last time?

Apparently, my conscience decided it wasn’t.  I find myself venturing into his classroom during one of his free periods.  I’m skipping lunch for this, so I really hope I get what I want.  It’s just that, when the number of times per day you touch yourself exceeds the number of times per day your phone rings, it’s probably time to satisfy some cravings.  Even if it does make me a homewrecker.

“Kya,” he breathes when I walk in.  “You forgot to hand in your assignment from yesterday.  I just figured I would let you know.  You’re a good student, and I don’t want your grade to suffer.”

Ever so polite.  It’s ridiculous.  I don’t want your cock to suffer,  I think to myself, wondering if he’s getting hard at the sight of me, and the memory of slowly taking my virginity in this very classroom one afternoon.

“I do have my assignment, but I seem to have left it in my panties this morning.  You know, sometimes you need quick storage…”  I giggle at how ridiculous I sound.  There’s no way in hell this is gonna work.  But Mr. Winston is just so damn academic sometimes, so incorporating schoolwork was my best bet.

He rolls his eyes and laughs a little.  “Please just give me the assignment.  I’d hate to have to fail you on anything when you’ve done so exceptionally well all year.”

“If you want it, come get it,” I said, glancing down at my tight jeans.

“Close the door,” he demands, still shaking his head.  I feel my hope rise, and I wonder if something of his rises, too.  I obey.  “You mean to tell me you literally put your assignment in your underwear?”

I shrug and once again cannot hold back laughter.  “Yeah.”

“And you won’t give it to me unless I take it out myself?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”  I grin from ear to ear.  He blushes.

“I really shouldn’t give in to your demands.  I’m your teacher…I shouldn’t ever agree to touch you that way.  I should just give you the F on this assignment and tell you to leave this room and go to lunch.”

“I sense a ‘but’,” I predict, and, wondering if he’ll notice my pun as I walk over to him and place my hand on his firm, muscular ass.  He draws in a sharp breath but doesn’t move away.

“But I’ve hurt you in ways I deeply regret.  I will always regret lying to you, and I will always regret ruining my respect for the rules and for my students by-“

“Please don’t say you regret sleeping with me.”

He looks so conflicted, and it’s honestly really cute.  “I don’t regret the way I felt when I did it.  You were…amazing.  Not just in bed, but you’re an amazing person.  But we can’t do this and I should’ve seen that.  And I know telling you this now is hurting you.  So I guess I owe you one, but we’re not messing around.  I’ll just accept the assignment…”

I take his hand and move it toward my waist.  “Good.”

“So you literally have a piece of paper folded up in your pants.”

“Yes.”

“That’s…disgusting,” he laughs, but I feel his warm, rough hand hesitantly reach down into the front of my jeans.  I feel his fingers move around over my panties.

“In my underwear,” I remind him.  He moves his hand back up and this time slips it under the front of my panties.  I feel his fingers against my trimmed pubic hair and I begin to breath heavily, feeling myself become wet as his fingers search.  I half expect them to enter me the way they once did, but he simply grabs the paper and pulls his hand back out, as if there was nothing remotely sexual about what I’d just had him do.  In a way, that made it even hotter.

I watch eagerly as he reads over my assignment.  It was a poem, any topic.  I’d written him quite the poem last night…

His face becomes bright red as he reads it.  “Kya, this is…I can’t decide whether to call it completely inappropriate or kind of beautiful.”

“I can give you something that’s both,” I whisper.

“Remember what I told you last time?  I have a wife.  Don’t do this to me.”

“Relax,” I tell him, standing on my tip-toes to kiss him gently.  To my surprise, he kisses back.  This is going better than planned.

“God, I’m so weak,” he mutters.

“It’s not weakness,” I assure him as I take off his tie.  “What I’m doing to you is unfair.  You can’t help what you feel.”  With my left hand, I gently run my hand over his crotch and feel the hardness I’d hoped for.  I then resume unbuttoning his shirt.

“If we get caught-“

“The door’s locked.  Relax.”  He is now shirtless and sexy as hell.  My hands immediately feel his biceps and then find themselves on his chest.  He’s so muscular, surprising for such an intellectual.  “Relax,” I whisper in his ear before removing his pants.  He doesn’t even try to stop me.  He’s enjoying it.

“I can’t like what you’re doing, Kya, but I do.”

“I can tell,” I said slowly pulling down his boxer briefs, which had given me a nice view of the outline of his erect penis. 

“You’re just a student,” he muses breathlessly.  “I don’t want to take advantage of you again.”

“Then don’t,” I reply in my sultriest voice.  Sometimes I can’t even believe myself.  How’d I end up like this?  “You don’t have to touch me.  I’m doing all the work.  If you want, I won’t even undress.”

“It’s not that you don’t have a beautiful, amazing body…” he says, “but…”

“No, I understand.  It’s all me.  All the advances were made by me.  Go sit in your chair.  Get comfortable.  Lay back.”

Sighing, unable to resist, he does as I ask.  I kneel over him on the chair, his crotch between my legs, and I begin to make out with him.  My tongue is urgent, and soon, so is his.  He runs his hands gently through my hair, which feels so sweet, but I tell him to please keep his hands to himself and let me do all the work.  I finally stop kissing his soft lips and let my kisses trail down his neck as he groans.  I’m leaving lipstick stains all over his skin, but I know he won’t mind.

My lips make their way down each arm, then over his strong chest.  I kiss each nipple lightly and sort of wish he could be kissing mine, except that I know the best way to win him over will be to focus all my energy on giving him pure pleasure.  His breathing increases as my kisses reach his abs, which I can’t help but to feel with my hands at the same time.

“You have an awesome body,” I comment quietly, interrupting my mouth’s work for a moment.

“It’s not that great,” he replies.  “But I do work out sometimes.”

I don’t respond.  Of course he works out.  He’s fricken perfect.

My lips follow the thin trail of hair leading from below his belly button down to his impressive length.  But I like to save the best for last, so I giggle as I get down onto the ground and kiss his feet, then up his legs, to the inside of his thighs.  He groans audibly.  He’s practically begging for it, even though he won’t say so out loud.

My soft fingers play with his balls for a moment and I feel his whole body stiffen with the pleasure he’s trying so hard not to feel.

“You like that?”  I ask.

“You know I do…” he mumbles.

“Thought so.”  Expertly, I take his cock in my hands and stroke it for a moment before kissing all the way down the length of it, letting my lips linger for extra time on the head.  I love the warm, firm feeling of it beneath my lips.  I finally remove my lips from his manhood and admire the lipstick artwork all over his body.

He looks down at himself and gives a half-smile.  “Guess I better shower right when I get home tonight,” he jokes.  Although really, it can’t be that much of a joke, because there’s no way in hell he’d let his wife see that evidence.  Evidence that some girl had pleasured him more than his wife probably ever even had.

Any normal guy would’ve been disappointed for the lack of a blow job, but Mr. Winston wasn’t an average guy.  He was so much better, and I wanted him back.

Predictably, he apologized, “I’m sorry I let you sit there and make me feel amazing when you don’t get to feel any of it.”

“You don’t think I liked that?” I reply softly, finally abandoning my demanding, sexy persona.  I kiss him one last time and then gently recommend he put his clothes back on and wash the lipstick off his face before the bell for next period rings.  “Believe me, if you think that was a burden…as brilliant as you may be, for once you’re terribly wrong.”

I begin to walk out of his classroom, making sure not to open the door too wide.  As pissed as I’ve sometimes been at him lately, I don’t want him to get caught.  Because I’m hoping, wishing…

“Kya?  I know I said we had to end this but maybe…it’s just that after all you’ve given me, which God knows I don’t even deserve-“

“Oh, shut up.  You’re sexy as hell.”

He rolls his eyes.  His eyes…so blue and so young-looking. He may be in his thirties, but he’s gorgeous to me.“I’m just saying.  I owe you one.”

Just what I’d been hoping for. This isn’t over.


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