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Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Just your average teacher-student relationship thing. Takes a while to get into the action, but so what? Even you nymphos out there deserve decent exposition in your literature, right? ;)

Summary

Just your average teacher-student relationship thing. Takes a while to get into the action, but so what? Even you nymphos out there deserve decent exposition in your literature, right? ;)

Content

Submitted: September 04, 2012

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: September 04, 2012

A A A

A A A


“Excuse me?” I asked hesitantly, stepping into his classroom.  Even just being in this room gave me a sharp awareness of what it was I truly wanted.  Even if I hadn’t been thinking it between my ears, I would’ve felt it between my legs.  “I have a homework question.”  Of course, I didn’t have a homework question.  Creative writing was my best subject, and even he knew it by now.  But my plan had worked; I now had his full attention.  His blue eyes met mine questioningly.

“You do?  I’d be happy to help.”  He was taken aback that I’d ask for help.  I never asked for help.  But I’d never felt such a strong desire for something…for someone.  And though I’d never actually seduced anyone before, I knew how to do it.  I’d been planning this for quite some time, figuring out what exact words I’d say, what innocent expressions I’d maintain.

I sighed, pulling up a chair across from his desk.  Our proximity…God, even just sitting here was nice.  “I’m just having writer’s block.  This whole love poetry thing.  You know how I feel about love.”

It wasn’t anything weird, but he did know.  Every poem and short story I’d written earlier in the year had been about my then-boyfriend, an abusive douchebag who I’d finally managed to break up with two weeks ago.  To be fair, it was a little difficult thinking of what to write now that I know longer felt the need to rant about him.  But, contrary to what I was telling Mr. Winston, I had figured out what I’d wanted to write about.

He rolled his eyes, smiling a little.  “You don’t believe in love.  I know.”

“Well, I might,” I corrected carefully, so grateful that I’d planned out every word of this conversation, braced myself for every possibility.  He was so…hot.  And considering he was 31 and married, he must have had some experience in bed… No.  You don’t have time for these thoughts.  Get back to business. “It’s just, I’ve always ranted about Josh and now I don’t really feel the need to, anymore.”

“Oh?  Well, I’m…uh, glad to hear it.  Did you break up with him?”

Thanks to my previous assignments, Mr. Winston also knew what an obsessive relationship I’d had, and how difficult it must have been for me to finally break off what seemed to be an addiction for me.  “Yeah.”

He looked genuinely interested, happy for me.  He wanted all his students to succeed, not just in the classroom, but in every aspect of life.  And today, I planned to succeed.

“How’d you manage to get over him?  If you don’t mind me asking.  I’ve had friends with similar problems, and they struggled deeply to be able to end their relationships, for months, sometimes even years.”

I dared myself to make eye contact with him, and it was breathtaking.  Blue eyes, contrasting sharply with that dark hair.  “How does anyone get over a crush?  By falling in love with…someone else.”

He flinched a little, suspecting now.  I had to be careful, had to ease into everything.  “Well then write about that someone else.”

I smirked shyly.  “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s someone I’m not allowed to love.”

“You’re allowed to love anyone you want.  It’s a feeling.  No one can stop you from feeling.”  Now he was getting all philosophical.  God, that turned me on.  Sometimes I just wanted to fuck his brains.

“No, I really can’t fall for this person.”

“Come on, Kya.  Who is it?”  He’s clueless.  He doesn’t realize…but he’s about to…

“You already know who it is,” I replied softly, and then got up from my chair and slowly leaned in to kiss him.  Everything felt perfect as our lips met.  He didn’t kiss back, but he didn’t fight.  I lingered with my lips on his for only a second, and then pulled away carefully, gauging his reaction.  He was blushing, and then took a deep breath.

“Kya, I’m sorry, but I can’t-“

“But you said it yourself.  No one can stop me from feeling.”

He was still so flustered.  It was adorable.  He looked so much younger than 31.  So weak, so innocent.  Like I was supposed to be.  “You can feel, but you can’t always act on those feelings.  I’m your teacher, and I’ll never be anything more.  I think you’re a brilliant writer, and a beautiful person, but I don’t think of you as anything more than a student.  An exceptional student?  Yes.  But I-“

“Right,” I replied, acting bored.  “Fine.  But I still need help with my homework.” Strategically, I leaned over his desk, knowing my low cut v-neck wouldn’t hide much.  I was wearing a push-up bra today, and he was inevitably going to get a nice view of my D-cup tits.

He drew in a sharp breath.  “You can write about literally anything, Kya.  You’re a skilled writer with a creative imagination; you don’t need my help to think of a topic.”

“I do have a creative imagination,” I agreed, keeping my tone steady so as to keep him wondering if the innuendo had been intended.  “Sometimes it gets a little…carried away.”

He caught the innuendo.  He doesn’t know what to do.  He’s helpless.  Just the way I want him to be.  “Kya, please don’t do this to me.  I’m only hear to teach you…”

“Then teach me,” I whispered, as he got up from his desk, heading to the door, no doubt wanting to escort me out.  I followed him to the door, and my long slender arm stretched out to reach it before his could.  I closed it softly, and then grabbed his hand.

“I can’t…” he protested, but he didn’t pull his hand away.  I guided it under my shirt and placed it over my right breast, which was only half-covered by my black bra.  Reluctantly, his hand cupped it, unmoving.

“I’m eighteen.”  I stated simply.  He removed his hand, but didn’t walk away.  I was making progress.  The bulge in his pants was proof.  I casually removed my own shirt, giving him a better view of the tits he’d just touched.  He looked down at the ground for a moment, took a deep breath, and then allowed himself to look up.

“You’re going to get me in so much trouble,” he said finally.

“I don’t intend to tell a soul.”  I was being honest.  I just wanted him, even if it was only for today, for a few minutes.  I just wanted my Creative Writing teacher inside me.  It was safe to say just about every girl in his class did, but especially me.

He didn’t reply, but I figured actions would speak louder than words anyway.  I reached up and ran my hands through his dark hair, messing it up the way I liked it.  I ran my right hand down his cheek, down to his chest, then stomach, and paused at his waist.

I wasn’t skilled in the art of turning men on, but I was smart enough to figure it out.  I slipped my fingers just under the waistband of his pants.  I heard him let out a slight gasp and then continue to breathe slightly harder than usual.  My breath was increasing, too.  I couldn’t believe I was about to touch him…

“Kya…”

“Shhh,” I replied, smiling, sliding my hands just an inch further down his pants, over his boxers.  Just another inch, that’s all I’d need…and he was waiting for it eagerly, as much as I knew he’d never admit it.  “You don’t want anyone to hear us, do you?”

Where had this seductive sex kitten side come from?  I was an innocent virgin.  How had I learned this?  It seemed to come naturally.  Finally, rather than sliding my hand further down into his crotch, I removed it and then proceeded to unzip his pants and pull them down to his feet.  He sighed and stepped out of them.  He was surrendering to me.  I could see right through his boxers that he wanted me.

Instead of touching him where I knew he wanted to be touched, I casually removed his tie and shirt, exposing a much better body than I’d even expected.  He obviously worked out when he wasn’t too busy writing deep poetry, or whatever it was he did.  I held him close, my boobs up against his chest.  Finally deciding to make a move, he reached behind my back and caressed it a few times before unhooking my bra.  He then stepped back and watched longingly as I let the straps slide down my shoulders and let my bra finally start to fall off.  I flung it aside and loved the way his eyes were glued to me.

“Touch me,” I whispered desperately.  “Please.”

“You’re huge,” he commented finally, placing one hand on each tit and rubbing them gently.  Experienced, I acknowledged.  He knows how to please a girl.

I laughed devilishly and glanced down at his boxers, which barely seemed to contain his erection anymore.  “So are you.”

“You shouldn’t touch me,” he warned, panting a little, his hands still diligently massaging my boobs.  “I’m already so far gone…”

“There’s a lot of things we shouldn’t do,” I replied, shrugging.  There was a strong tingling between my legs, and a wetness I’d only felt during my most intense daydreams.  On one hand, I wanted to tease him more…but on the other hand, I wanted to feel just how hard I’d made him.

My right hand slid quickly underneath his boxers and grasped his dick.  It was, in fact, much bigger than I’d expected.  Every girl had wondered just what was inside that gorgeous man’s pants, and now I knew. He groaned loudly. 

“What feels good?” I asked.  I’d never given a handjob before, and I honestly had no idea what I was doing.  “Come on, teach me.”

“Rub your hand…up and down.  Vary the pace…ugh, faster…yes.  Oh God.  Thank you.”

It felt good to be able to please him like this, to touch him here.  But I couldn’t ignore the wetness between my legs.  I needed him inside me.

Luckily, he’d already begun taking off my pants, and I didn’t try to stop him.  I did, however, quickly pull a condom out of my pocket before my pants were completely removed.  It wasn’t like he’d have one just lying around, so I’d come prepared.

His hand slipped under my panties, feeling me but not fingering me.  In a way, I didn’t want him to.  I’d never masturbated, and I wanted his dick to be the first thing to ever enter me.  Finally, he took my panties off and then paused, staring at me and taking shallow breaths.

“We can’t take this any further,” he stuttered, trying to be all authoritarian.  I ignored him and unwrapped the condom.  I then carefully slid it over his length, and felt him shudder at my touch.  I gave his dick one last stroke and then laid back on one of the student desks, spreading my legs, waiting.

“Please, Mr. Winston.  Teach me everything you know.”  I was no longer in a position of power.  He didn’t know it, but he was controlling me.  If he walked away, if he refused to fuck me, it would just kill me.

He couldn’t help it.  He climbed on top of me, obviously afraid to hurt me, but unable to hold back any longer.  I grasped the sides of the desk as I felt him enter me, so torturously slowly, so hesitant.  Heaven.  This was heaven.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No.  Keep going.”

He thrust in and out, still so gently, and I had to hold back a scream as we both climaxed.  Out of nowhere, he began to recite a poem under his breath, one that had to have been an original.  I could deduce that it was love poetry, probably some of the sweetest words I’d ever heard, but I couldn’t even comprehend the words.  All I could comprehend was his body up against mine, joined with mine, just like I’d daydreamed every day in class.  By the time he pulled out of me, I was completely pleased.  All my desires had been fulfilled.

“Thank you,” I said finally, smiling up into those flawless eyes.  “I know what I’m going to write about.”


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