5 comments/ 146495 views/ 6 favorites Don't Stall... By: Therapie "You are a fucking whore!" His eyes blazed as he glared down at me and a reached up to grab his shirt. "Baby, wait it is not what you think...." I started as he shoved me away from him. "You were all over those guys on the dance floor! I saw with my own eyes, I am not fucking blind!" He stalked into the corner of the room and out the exit. I looked around the crowded club, only a few people close had noticed anything and they returned to dancing. Running to the bathroom, barely containing my tears, I forced the door open. Alone, I sat upon a toilet and sobbed. hearing the door open, I halted, containing my sniffles. I heard someone go into the stall next to mine and looking over I noticed a small hole. About three inches in circumference, it was lined with duct tape. Confused I leaned closer. All I could see was the other wall and some movement in the corner of the stall. I sat back and waited, thinking to myself. 'This is fucking ridiculous. Yelling at me for dancing! The nerve of him. I ought to go find one of those guys and fuck him, show him a REAL whore.' I looked over to see a cock sliding through the hole I had pressed my eye to only moments before. My mouth agape, I watch it thrust in and out, in a mockery of penetration. Tentatively reaching out, I wrapped my hand around the head, caressing it with my thumb. Pulling my hand back in horror at what I had done, I could feel my pussy throbbing with the idea of it. Could I really? I mean, who would know? Running my hands over my lips, I could taste the salt on them from the cock. I reached back out and grabbed it, tickling my fingers down the base and up again, strumming underneath the head like a chin. The cock thrust toward me another inch and I could see the stall wall rock a bit as the person on the other side pressed his body against it, toward my touch. Leaning over slightly, I licked the frenulum lightly, and feeling bold took it into my mouth, sucking hard to feel the swelling against my cheeks. Wrapping my hand around the base, I lifted it upward, licking along the underseam and back up to massage the head in my mouth with my tongue, which was coated with his salty precum. I stroked him idly, wondering at what I was doing as my hand found my throbbing clit in my panties. I could feel the wetness coating my fingers and I brought them up, licking the juices from them. I spit on his cock, and mumbled, "Nasty fucker.." as I took it back into my mouth, getting it wet to fuck me. I stood up, removing my skirt and shirt. Standing with my back to the wall, rubbing my ass back and forth against it as I stroked the hard cock in my hand, and spread my thighs. Putting the cock in between them, I pushed the cock up until its full length was caressing my slit, mixing my cunt juices with spit on his cock and I moved back and forth, rubbing my clit with his head. Bending over, I spread my ass cheeks, widening my pussyhole to tease his head with it as he was slowly consumed by my hungry cunt. Inch by marvelous inch I could feel him filling me, and I slammed back, moaning out loud at the sudden rush of wetness being pushed from my twat. I could feel it seeping down my thighs as I moved back and forth, reaching over to pull and pinch my nipples as I did so. Running my hand down my belly, I inserted my middle and ringfingers into the apex of my sex, pulling at my ring and circling my clit as I rocked. 'God I am such a whore' I thought to myself. It occurred to me that I was going all the way, and decided that I would be the whore. We had argued many times, Chris and I. He had wanted to pound me in the ass since we met but I was adamant about it. Now I felt behind me, the cock sliding in and out and wondered. I leaned forward and heard a groan from the other side. Reaching down, I rubbed my cunt and fingered my ass with our mixed juices. "Ohhhhh....." I caught myself. Biting my lip I leaned back, easing the cock into my tight hole, and I felt myself shaking with orgasm. I rammed my ass into the wall in my need, riding the cock behind me for all it was worth. It felt as though I was being ripped in two and I felt myself wanting to come again and again. Bracing myself on the opposite wall, I reached back, gripping the base as it fucked me, feeling it go in and out of my ass and I squeezed my cheek. Wanting to be spanked so badly, I grabbed and kneaded my tits frantically. Slamming into the wall, it looked like an earthquake was hitting the restroom as the stalls swayed back and forth to my thrusts. Pounding my ass into the wall, I felt every inch fill me and I stuck my fingers into my cunt, fucking myself. My palm rubbed against my nub as I did so, and I screamed as pleasure consumed me. "Fuck me you whore!" I heard him gasp from behind the wall, and I renewed my pace as I felt him slamming back into me, helping me in my quest to make him come. Flexing my ass to squeeze him deeper, I withdrew to the tip and moved slightly, up and down on his head for a moment, before slamming back down. Feeling him quicken, knowing his cock must be raw from the friction of the wall hole, I felt him slow down and I thrust back, filling my ass with him come. I leaned back for a moment, feeling my ass give a bit as he softened inside of me, before retreating. Sitting on the toilet, I shuddered. 'I can't believe I just did that' I thought to myself, shaking my head as I heard the bathroom door opening and closing. I sat for a moment and came out to clean myself up, and gasped when I saw Chris sitting there, a smug smile on his face. "I always knew you were a little slut, thanks for the confirmation, love." Don't Stand So Close To Me It was early morning and the fog was rising, leaving a vale of white, halfway above the path and throughout the rest of the woods. Beth took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the moist grass. The sun cast beautiful shadows on the ground, as the rays streamed through the trees; which is one of the reasons she loved to walk at this time in the morning. It was quiet and peaceful with only the sounds of passing cars in the distance and the occasional bird calling. The morning was cool. She could smell wood burning as the wind gently tousled her hair around her face. It felt like invisible fingers on her cheeks. As she walked, she fantasized about his fingers touching her and caressing her; her neck, her breasts and her waist. God, how she longed for his touch. She couldn't even remember the details of his face anymore, it had been so long. She struggled to remember how it all started, trying to refuel the fantasy. It had been about three days since Beth started taking Professor King's accounting class. She was an art student and academics were not her thing but she needed one more business credit to get her diploma. Accounting seemed to make sense. After all she would have to manage her own books, when and if her work ever made a profit. She had just attended a two hour seminar about her future in the Design program. It stressed the importance of loving your work and art for pleasure, more so than profit and starving artists and blah, blah, blah. Beth created because she loved it but wasn't sure if she was driven enough to commit her life to such a huge 'what if'. She seriously re-evaluated whether she would even continue with the design program at all or look into taking something more practical and profitable. Finally, she decided that if nothing else came of her art, she could fall back on bookkeeping, so she enrolled in accounting. It was 1:50 pm when Beth got to the class room; there wasn't anyone there yet so she found her usual table at the back, as far away from the professor's desk as possible and got out her books. She figured she had to take the course, but she didn't have to like it and she certainly didn't plan on being an active part of the class, so the back of the room was the place to be. 'Better to go unnoticed', was her life mantra. Then Professor King walked in. He was average height, maybe 6 feet, about 40 - 45 and devastatingly handsome by Beth's standards. He was clean shaven and wore glasses. He had dirty blonde hair and a goatee that had started to grey, making him look very distinguished. He had broad shoulders and strong arms. Beth was thankful that the school had no policy against short sleeves so she could drink in the sinew of his forearms and the little bit of bicep that was visible. His 'rear assets' were accentuated by his casual and perfectly fitted khaki cargos. Beth's chin rested on her hand as she gazed dreamily at him, unaware that he had noticed her. Her insides muddled as she stared at his body, imagining it up close and personal with hers. Oblivious to what she was thinking, he smiled at her and her breath caught with his acknowledgement; she turned beet red. Oh God, she thought, and busied herself with her books. "Good morning sunshine." Professor King said in his warm, confident voice. Beth melted and struggled to keep her crimson tide at bay. He was the reason this class was even remotely bearable. She could listen to him recite the phone book, which was definitely a bonus to his good looks, because although she had no problems with the work, the class was very boring. "G-Good morning." She said looking up only long enough to address him. At first Beth had trouble looking him in the eyes, not able to manage any real kind of eye contact. Professor King noticed and was flattered by her bashfulness. He tried valiantly not to think about how cute she looked when she blushed, attempting to keep the teacher/student borders un-penetrable. A battle he would eventually lose, because over the next few weeks the attraction intensified. Everyday she would arrive earlier and earlier to class just to share space with him; alone. She would try, rather pathetically, to talk to him about anything, sometimes asking the silliest questions just to hear his voice. When he spoke to the class, his tone was very cold and sharp; but when he directed his conversation to her, it was warmer and smoother like a wonderful Acappella folk song. The kind she'd heard as a lullaby her whole life. Her body reacted to Professor King no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. When he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, her insides turned to goo. When he passed her in the hall, she would shiver and her nipples would stiffen. He caught her off guard once, while in line in the cafeteria. He said hello from behind her, inches from her ear. The moisture from his breath travelling straight to her core. She lost her concentration, bumped into the person ahead of her and dropped her entire tray of food. Professor King was becoming sexually aware of her too. Beth would come to class in low cut tee shirts and short skirts. He couldn't help but admire her exquisite physique, with her tight ass and tight tan legs and the smell of her shiny long brown hair. She was very slim, but still had the stark contrast between her wide hips and tiny waist. That paired with perfect breasts, would make any red-blooded man mad with desire. Eventually they both eagerly anticipated their class time, before and after. Beth would pretend not to understand the work so that she could stay after class for extra help, hoping for a bit of non verbal foreplay. She was very attuned to his presence. The affect it had on her body was stimulating, energizing and at the very least, gave her fuel enough to take matters into her own hands, when she was alone at night in her bed. Not only had Beth become a glutton for punishment, returning time and time again for his erotic abuse; but Professor King sadistically yearned to make her squirm and blush, consequently torturing himself as well. He fed off of her reaction when he invaded her personal space and would lean over her shoulder, under the guise of examining her work just to watch her tremble and hear her breath quicken. He wanted, no, needed to be near her, to smell her, to feel her quiver against his chest. Dangerously, he attempted to get close to her, speaking into the shell of her ear and delighting in the way her breath would catch. He stared down into her vibrant, pulsing green eyes and marvelled at the way they instantly darkened with desire. When she stood before him, his eyes travelled over her body and he relished the way her nipples pebbled beneath her shirt at nothing more than the touch of his gaze. The electricity between them threatened to drive him insane. A wave of heat would wash over her; starting at her feet and gradually moving up her legs. It heated up her inner thighs and caressed her core, leaving her wet and agitated. When it reached her breasts it made her nipples stiffen against her tight tee shirt. Professor King noticed when it happened and found himself becoming aroused. She would squirm in her seat, trying to get comfortable in her slippery wetness. As the heat rose to her face she would breathe faster, almost panting and then she would blush; her cheeks first and then her ears, her neck and her décolleté. The entire exchange would happen daily. While Professor King was at the board giving a lecture Beth would often fantasize about him. One day she imagined herself walking up behind him; sliding her hands deep into his pockets; pressing her already charged body against his back; grabbing his hot, swollen cock in her hand from inside his pocket. She took in a long deep breath imagining his smell. She craved the taste of him and subconsciously raised her fingers to her lips. The fire inside her was too much to handle as she began squirming provocatively in her seat. The guys in the class were becoming aroused watching her. The girls began whispering just loud enough for her to hear. Beth opened her eyes and snapped back to reality only to see all the eyes of the class on her, including Professor King. She was mortified. She blushed and with tears in her eyes, gathered her things in haste and ran from the class. She could hear the snickering from her class mates as she ran down the hall. Professor King tried to bring the class back to order, but to no avail, so he decided to dismiss them. He was sympathetic to her embarrassment; but was deeply disturbed by the fact that he might be the cause of it. Much to his surprise his feelings for her were stronger than he wanted to admit. He wanted to run after her but knew if he had, it would appear inappropriate so he remained in the class. He couldn't stop thinking about her though. It distracted him for the rest of the day. He was very relieved when the day was over, and decided he would have to talk to Beth about what happened. He wasn't sure what he would say but he had to try and make taking his class a little less uncomfortable for her. At home that evening his sleep was disrupted by thoughts of her. The next day Beth wasn't in class and Professor King realized he missed her. For the next few days, he could think of nothing but her. By now a rumour had circulated throughout campus about an affair between the two of them. Even his colleagues were teasing him in the staff room about Beth's apparent infatuation with him. He desperately wanted to defend her but worried it would make him appear guilty. In the evening, while he was alone in his apartment he thought about Beth; her shy smile with perfect white teeth; her smell, a blend of coconut and lilac. He loved the way she looked at him, like she wanted to be with him, regardless of where they were or who might see them. For the first time such thoughts of her made him rock hard. With his eyes closed and his head back, he put his hand in his track pants and started stroking himself while he fantasized about her. He imagined her straddling him in his chair, his hands gripping her firm ass and sliding her slowly up and down his hard shaft. Her wet pussy making sucking noises as she moans her enjoyment. She grabs his shoulders and begins moving herself; rocking her pelvis forward and back and around and around. He is keeping time to her rhythm, pushing and pulling her as she loses herself. Her long hair drapes over her breast leaving only her erect nipples exposed. Then she throws her head back, exposing her bare breasts. He sits up and begins to nibble and suck them. His hands slide from her ass up her sweaty back and he pulls her close burying his face in her breasts. She runs her fingers through his hair and presses his head into her chest. Their pace quickens as they both come closer; his grunting gets louder as she quiets. The thrusting is replaced with pounding and he is less able to hold on. With one final thrust and one loud groan he explodes deep inside of her. That evening he slept like a baby. Beth's phone rang about 4 times a day for weeks. She was trying to decide what she wanted to do about school. By now the embarrassment wasn't the issue. She really didn't know if Art was what she wanted anymore. She was never going back to his class, that she knew for sure; she couldn't be around professor King anymore but maybe she could try some other business course next semester. The fact that she hadn't been at school for a month now wasn't that big of a deal; she was always way ahead with her assignments, but people were getting concerned that something else might be wrong. She didn't have friends in school but there were a few acquaintances that thought she had been gone long enough. Not all the phone calls were from other professors or students though. He had called her almost everyday at least once, but stopped leaving messages. She thought about calling him back; and then thought better of it and deleted the calls. Beth knew she had to at least get back and talk with her adviser about where she stood. She was pretty sure she could make it in for the appointment unnoticed. After a short conversation, her adviser agreed to see her on Wednesday which gave her one day to psyche herself up for it. She spent all of Tuesday cleaning her apartment. It had never been so clean; but when she was done, she had nothing left to do. All the laundry was done; the bathroom, the kitchen, the floors and even the windows were done before 8:00. She decided that she wasn't going to sit around and stew about the meeting tomorrow, so she went to bed. Beth slept in the next day and by the afternoon was ready to go. She put on the most normal outfit she could find; sweat pants, and a tee shirt, no makeup and her hair in a ponytail. She looked like every other student and would blend in with no problem. She grabbed her bag and went to catch the bus. Beth hated to be late and had the bad habit of checking her watch every 10 min. Damn, she thought, the bus is running late. When she got to the school, she hurried down the hall to her adviser's office. Unfortunately she would have to pass Professor King's office on the way but she was pretty sure he would be in class. But she walked a little faster anyway. Professor King was in his office. He was at his desk facing the door, concentrating on the huge stack of unmarked papers in front of him, when he smelt her. Her perfume drove him crazy and he hadn't forgotten it. As he looked up he caught a glimpse of her passing the door. He got up from his desk quickly and went out into the hall. He saw her disappearing into the office two doors down from his. The door closed and he stood in the hallway waiting. He was almost giddy, he was so excited. He laughed at himself for how foolish he must seem. He missed her. He had decided about a week ago that he needed to see her again so bad that he was planning on going to her apartment this afternoon. He stood in the hallway patiently for about 1/2 an hour waiting for her. When Beth emerged from the office she was looking down as she walked toward him. She bumped right into him. He steadied her with both hands and felt that familiar connection between their bodies. Beth looked up into his eyes and blushed instantly. Her body had not forgotten their chemistry either and she was wet instantly. Shit, she thought, is this ever going to stop? How do I control myself when I can't control my body? "Beth I need to see you in my office right now please." He said still holding her. His words startled her even though she had been looking at him. She dropped her eyes and nodded, then turned and made her way to his office. His hand on the small of her back, casually guided her. "Please have a seat" he said as he walked to the other side of the desk. Beth sat and began playing with her hair. "You've been gone for quit some time. I'm afraid you won't be able to make up the lost assignments." Beth nodded. "Were you discussing what to do with your adviser just now?" Beth nodded. "So what did you decide if you don't mind me asking." Beth finally spoke, "I will be taking another course next semester." He smiled "Good, good." He said searching for something to say. Desperate to keep her there. "Can I ask you why you stopped taking my class?" Beth cleared her throat. "I was too embarrassed to come back." "Would you mind telling me what happened?" he said. "I'd rather not." She said as she looked at the floor. Professor King stroked his goatee as he thought about what to say next. "Was it me?" he said tenderly. Beth looked up, in a moment of bravery, and answered "Yes." She was so shy and vulnerable he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. "Some of the other students said you were.....day dreaming" which was his way of being tactful. "Yup" Beth answered. "About me? What is so embarrassing about that?" Beth took a breath. "Can I leave now?" She said. "Just tell me what was so bad." Beth got up and walked to the door reaching for the knob. Professor King was up out of his seat just as fast and reached over her with one hand and held the door closed. His chest was against her back, he was as close as he could get. They had never touched before and the air was electric. His face was right next to her head. Beth looked down but didn't move. "Beth." He said in a soft airy voice right next to her ear. Beth shivered. She thought she was going to faint. "You didn't return my calls." His voice was deep and husky. Beth looked at the door but didn't want to move. "I know." She mumbled. "Why not." Professor King pushed further. "I didn't know what to say." Beth's voice was quiet. Professor King wanted to hold her, and had to say something now or she might walk out the door and not come back. "I know you like me" he said. "I mean, I know you, want me." Beth stood up straight. She hated confrontations but knew she was going to have to talk about this or she might never get out of there. She turned around slowly. He didn't move and his face was so close to her she could smell the mint on his breath. They were both practically panting. The lust between them was tangible. Beth looked into his dark and intense eyes. "I want you too" He said into her mouth. He rubbed the back of his hand along her cheek before sliding it under her hair and grabbing the back of her neck. Seconds passed as they looked at each other, and then he kissed her. Time stood still. Beth melted into him. The taste of him and the softness and warmth of his lips pulled her deeper. Unconsciously she snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him back. It was a slow and passionate kiss that made her knees weak and her pussy throb. He pressed her against the door with his body. Moving his hands to her waist he pulled her closer grinding the bulge in his pants against her mound. The feel of her small frame under his strong body made her tremble with excitement. It was better than she thought it would be. She felt safe and comfortable with his forceful confidence and was losing herself. They kissed like that for several minutes when he finally stepped back. He was breathing heavily, his eyes cloudy and intense, almost wild. Beth stumbled a little when he pulled away, trying to cling to their connection. When she opened her eyes she was still a little foggy. Professor King smiled. Beth tried to catch her breath "You could get in a lot of trouble for that. What will your colleagues think?" Professor King was very stern now and in a slightly angered voice said "You're not my student any more and as for my colleagues, you let me deal with that." "Yes Sir". She said quietly. "Professor King?" She continued to look at the ground, "What now?" He tilted her chin up to look make her look into his eyes, "Call me Shawn". Shawn went to his coat rack and got his coat. He took her by the hand and left the office. Beth had no problem submitting to him. They quickly walked down the hall together and out the front door to his car. He opened the car door for her and quickly glanced around to make sure no one was watching. As they drove, they said nothing. Beth could still feel her heart pounding as she relived the kiss. Shawn put his hand on her knee. She could see the cabin as they rounded the bend. It was small and rustic and very secluded. It was hidden behind several trees with a cobble stone path leading to the driveway. He pulled up to the garage and turned off the car. They sat in silence briefly before he got out. She took a deep breath as he rounded the front of the car and opened her door. With his hand outstretched he helped her from the car and led her to the cabin. The path was pretty over grown but Beth would have made any excuse to hold his hand. She had craved his touch for so long. It was amazing how her body could react to such a simple exchange Don't Stand So Close To Me Sylvie watched as the girls dragged themselves half-heartedly around the field. It was Thursday afternoon, last lesson of the day and even she was struggling to summon any enthusiasm for hockey. She shivered a little as she tried to keep warm, waiting for the girls to complete their circuit. "Come on, girls. Warm up properly, you don't want to pull any muscles." Sylvie moved slowly, stretching and bending her body. She was proud of her appearance. Her face was smooth and wrinkle-free, with green eyes, button nose -- which had been described as cute by a former lover -- and plump, rosy lips; she had the features of a woman at least 10 years younger. She kept her figure in good shape - curvy but toned - and she knew she was attractive. Unfortunately, since her divorce had been finalised three years earlier, she'd had nothing but trouble with men. Every guy she'd met had seen her as a quick conquest; a few nights of hot sex and before they moved on. Her last attempt at a relationship had been a disaster. Perhaps her luck would change in her personal life like it had in her professional one? She'd been at the school 7 months now and she was really starting to feel at home. It had been a dream job to get; a private, mixed sex school with a fantastic PE department, long holidays and a great wage structure. These kinds of job didn't come up very often and she couldn't believe her luck when they offered her the post. The previous incumbent had left for what the headmaster had termed 'personal reasons' and she'd been only too pleased to fill the void at short notice. The kids all came from very rich families and although there were a few who could do with being brought down a peg or two, most were ok. Despite that, she hated taking senior girls for their weekly games lessons. The girls felt they were far too mature to get hot and sweaty chasing a ball around a hockey pitch and spent most of their time trying to catch the eye of the senior boys who were on the adjacent field for football training. And the boys didn't help matters either. They would stop and watch the girls, occasionally wolf-whistling, causing consternation among the group. As Sylvie looked over, she spotted two of the young bucks sprawled on the grass, eyeing the girls as they went through their warm up; they whistled and cat-called and she could hear the girls giggling at the immature flirting. Then she saw a third male, standing separately. But he wasn't watching the girls. He was staring at her as she stretched and warmed her muscles. She turned away to continue her routine, but when she turned back, his eyes were still fixed on her. Sylvie carried on stretching, watching him from the corner of her eye. She didn't recognise him and the attention was making her a little uncomfortable. The girls completed their circuit of the pitch and then joined her in the centre circle, distracting her. She took them through the end of their warm up, encouraging them to bend and flex, stretching the muscles in preparation for the game. Then she split them into teams and sent them off to play. Blowing the whistle to start the game, she glanced back at the football pitch. The two coarse lads had gone back to play their game but the quiet third remained, staring at her blatantly. Even from this distance, she could feel his gaze assessing her body, his eyes sweeping over her curves. Sylvie flushed, embarrassed at this obvious appraisal. She turned back to the game, studiously ignoring him as she put the girls through their paces; every so often she would feel suddenly warm and she knew that he was there again, watching her. Forty-five minutes later, flushed and sweaty after an exhausting game, the girls returned to the locker room. Sylvie followed, hustling the stragglers; she didn't want to stay any later than necessary now school was effectively over for the day. Crossing the football field, the last few boys were trudging back to change too. Among them was the dark haired young man she'd caught watching her earlier. She walked past, determined to ignore him. "You look very...fit...Miss." Sylvie whirled round to confront him. She couldn't stop him watching her, but she sure as hell wasn't going to take any cheek from him. "What's your name?" she demanded. "I'm Paul, Miss. Paul Davies." As he responded, he walked closer to her. Sylvie stood her ground as he approached, taking in a pair of emerald green eyes, set in a young but well moulded face. His body was buff, defined by exercise and his arms looked muscled and strong. Sylvie inexplicably imagined those arms wrapped around her and felt heat bloom in her stomach. She was momentarily flustered, shocked by the feelings that he had unknowingly aroused. Composing herself, she took him to task. "Well, Paul Davies," she said, "I don't know what you think you're up to, but I'd appreciate it if you kept your comments to yourself in future." Paul smiled and Sylvie felt the heat spreading. His smile was devastating; he was far more attractive than any eighteen year old had the right to be. "Well, Miss," he responded, "I'm not up to anything. I just appreciate the female form and I think yours is fabulous." His eyes swept her body. Sylvie gasped, shocked at his boldness. "I think you should direct your attentions elsewhere. There are plenty of girls your own age around," she snapped, acutely aware of her nipples stiffening under his gaze. Warmth bloomed in her cheeks. She brought her arms up and folded them across her chest, embarrassed by the way her body was responding to this young man. "They're not a patch on you, Miss," he said. "I much prefer your sexy body to those stick insects." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Sylvie standing alone, dumbfounded. She knew she should go after him and warn him off, but her mind was reeling. She couldn't believe what had happened. He was eighteen years old; she had no right to be attracted to him! She knew she had to avoid him at all costs before she lost control of the situation. *** Despite her intentions, it was easier said than done. Everywhere she turned, it seemed Paul was there; his eyes caressed her body in a way that made her cheeks flush and caused arousal to trickle between her legs. For weeks, she tried to ignore the feelings he aroused in her, thinking he'd get bored if he thought she wasn't responding to him. Then things changed. One day he passed her in the crowded hallway, and in the crush of bodies he brushed against her. She felt his fingers caress her bare leg beneath her gym skirt for a second and it was like a jolt of electricity racing through her, raising goose bumps on her flesh and making her heart pound. Again, she tried to ignore it -- perhaps it had been accidental -- but the following day, as he stood in front of her in the cafeteria queue his hand crept behind him and stroked her leg, brushing lightly over her inner thigh and causing a flood of wetness in her groin. As each second passed, his fingers stroking her skin, she knew she should stop him, move out of reach; she felt powerless, every part of her was aching to feel his hand reach higher and stroke the very centre of her need. When he finally moved away, it was all she could do to walk to the table with her food. She was sure everyone must realise what had just happened and she picked at her food, her appetite gone, but nobody rose from their seat to proclaim her a harlot. Sylvie knew she had to put a stop to it. She was a forty-one year old woman, a teacher; surely she could deal with the attentions of a horny eighteen year old? That afternoon, she sent a note to his form tutor, requesting his attendance at detention after school that evening, determined to use the opportunity to talk to him and sort things out once and for all. At half past three, she sat at the desk in the classroom, glancing at her watch every few seconds, nervously awaiting his arrival. The school was quiet now, most of the pupils had left for the day and the other members of staff were gathering their things to head home for the evening. Sylvie was nervous - more nervous than she ought to be. The way she reacted to this young man shocked her; she seemed unable to cope whenever he was around. If she didn't get a handle on the situation, things could spiral out of control very quickly. She heard footsteps approaching and her mouth suddenly felt dry. The door opened and he entered the room. Sylvie was immediately aware of him; her arousal surged as she watched him approach the desk. "So, where do you want me, Miss?" he asked with a grin. Sylvie swallowed heavily and tried to compose herself. "Sit down there." She indicated a chair at the front of the classroom. "We need to talk." **** As he sat down, Paul watched Sylvie carefully. This was a make or break moment, he felt. Since he'd found out she was single, he had been trying to manoeuvre her to this point. He'd noticed her at the start of term -- she'd been new to the teaching staff -- but he knew he'd have to bide his time to get what he wanted. Her reaction to his earlier touch at lunch had given him confidence and he waited for his opportunity. Sylvie got up and walked around to perch on the front of the teacher's desk and Paul appraised her intently. She moved with unconscious elegance; her body was toned but not too muscular. Auburn hair curled softly onto her shoulders, she had high, firm breasts and her legs were long and supple. Paul couldn't help but stare at them; more often than not she wore a short gym skirt to take lessons and her bare, tanned legs were on display. She was wearing that skirt now and he had to resist the urge to walk over to her, run his hand up the inside of her bare thigh and stroke the material of her panties between her legs. He imagined parting her legs as she sat on the desk, hooking the material to one side and... "Are you listening to me, Paul?" His attention was dragged back to the present by the tone of her voice, wavering and unsure. "Sorry, I was miles away." He smiled and looked at her, nervously twisting the hem of her gym skirt like a teenager as she tried to tell him why he should leave her alone and concentrate on girls his own age. He let her talk, nodding here and there as if in agreement, then as she was getting into her stride, he struck. "Why didn't you stop me earlier?" he interjected. Sylvie stopped -- her mouth open in mid-sentence -- and stared at him. "If you mean what you're saying," he continued, "you'd have stopped me at lunch today." "I...I thought..." Sylvie floundered, unable to justify her earlier behaviour. "You see, Miss," Paul said in a considered tone, "I think you liked it. I think you wanted me to carry on. I think you wanted me to touch you...touch your pussy. I could smell your scent, you know. Did you know how sweet you smell when you're aroused? I can smell it on you now..." "No! No, I didn't...I wasn't..." Sylvie babbled, but Paul continued as if she had said nothing. "In fact," he said, "I think if I came over there right now and spread your legs, your pussy would be wet for me, wouldn't it?" Sylvie was speechless, shocked by the presumptuous words that fell from his lips. He seemed to have no boundaries, no sense of propriety. Her nerves were jangling, her conscience was telling her to get out of there, to flee before things went any further. She would hand in her notice and find a job elsewhere, get away from this boy and temptation. But her legs wouldn't move. She sat on the desk, silent and still, as he rose from his seat and moved in front of her. "Your skin is so soft," his voice was almost a whisper now as he stood before her. "I want to touch you again. I'm going to touch you again right now. Are you going to stop me?" He waited a few beats, giving her an opportunity to resist, and then his hand brushed the outside of her thigh. She held her breath, trembling as he stroked her leg, inching up beneath the hem of her skirt towards her inner thigh. Moving his face toward her, his breath was a gentle breeze on her face; his eyes were piercing straight through hers. Then he brushed his lips gently over hers but her mouth was stiff and unyielding, refusing to accept what was happening. "Kiss me, Miss," he whispered against her lips. "You want to kiss me. I can feel your heart racing. I can see the flush in your cheeks. Open your lips and kiss me." His mouth covered hers again and his hand moved to stroke her pussy through her panties. Sylvie gasped and Paul pulled her to him, exploring her mouth as it softened and yielded to his kiss. Her head was whirling. She hadn't even been aware of opening her legs for him, but he was now standing between them, his fingers exploring the contours of her labia through the soaked fabric of her underwear, pressing the wet material against her throbbing clitoris. Belatedly, she tried to pull away. "No, Paul, we mustn't. This is wrong...this is so wrong..." but Paul didn't stop. He nibbled gently at her lower lip as his fingers hooked her panties to one side and stroked the smooth, shaven skin of her slit. That was Sylvie's undoing. Moaning into his mouth, her hips surged forward, urging him on. "Oh god, yes," she moaned, "there...rub me there." Paul obliged, his fingers sliding over the wetness; his thumb pushed between her labia to glide over her swollen nub as two fingers slid inside her and gently probed for her g spot. Sylvie rocked against him and her fingers slid into his hair, pulling his face to hers as she kissed him deeply, giving herself up to the sensations. Her pussy was so wet; she could hear the squelch as his fingers caressed her and even in her arousal, she was still embarrassed at how much this young man turned her on. Paul pulled his fingers away and a sigh of disappointment escaped her lips. As she squirmed on the desk, aching for his touch, he raised his hand to his face and put his fingers into his mouth. "Mmm, I knew you'd taste good." He smiled at her. "So good, that I'm going to lick your delicious cunt right now." Sylvie was stunned at this audacious pronouncement. She couldn't believe he thought this was going any further. Knowing she had to stop immediately, she struggled against him. Paul let her go and watched as she tried to compose herself. "I'm sorry," he said, abashed. "You're just so beautiful. You turn me on so much." He stroked her cheek gently and Sylvie drew in a shuddering breath. She was still on the precipice; her body ached with need. Paul took her hand and brushed it over the front of his trousers, tracing her fingers round the outline of his turgid cock. "Feel how much I want you," he whispered as his lips moved to cover hers again. He let her hand go. Her mind clouded with lust, Sylvie continued to rub his hardness as his tongue probed the moist cavern of her mouth. Paul deepened the kiss, his hand moving back between her legs to stroke her wetness. "Please, let me taste you," he begged. Paul's fingers pushed inside her again and Sylvie moaned as her responded to him urgently; her resistance was finally broken. Paul sensed her capitulation. Taking hold of her hips, he pulled Sylvie to the edge of the desk and eased her panties down her legs, putting them into his pocket. "A keepsake." He grinned as he eased her legs wider apart. "Lay back on the desk," he commanded and in a daze, Sylvie did as she was bid. Paul surveyed her shaven labia and stroked his finger over her; she shuddered at his touch. "You have the most delicious looking pussy," he said. "I can't wait to taste it. And then I'm going to put my cock in it and fuck you." He moved swiftly between her legs and licked the length of her slit. Sylvie moaned. Paul eased her sticky labia apart with his fingers and probed his tongue inside her. She moved her hips, pushing towards him as he began to lavish attention on her pussy, nibbling and sucking on her clit while his fingers fucked her, then swapping over, his thumb rubbing over her nub as his tongue delved inside to scoop out her sweet nectar. Sylvie was in heaven; she was almost mindless with ecstasy. He seemed to know exactly when she was getting close to climax and he slowed his movements, bringing her back from the edge, before slowly building the momentum again, his tongue and fingers alternately licking and probing at her very core. Her pussy was burning; she was on fire from his touch. "Oh god, Paul," she groaned, "that's so good, don't stop...I'm coming..." This time Paul continued rubbing her clit until she exploded into orgasm, crying out his name. He fastened his mouth over her pussy, lapping the juices that flowed from her as she writhed in wanton abandon beneath him, whimpering as she gave her body up to the overwhelming pleasure he'd given her. She was dimly aware of Paul moving away as she lay panting on the desk, trying to recover from the tumultuous sensations she'd just experienced. She opened her eyes to see him removing his clothes, baring his beautiful body to her appreciative gaze. As he turned back towards her, she caught sight of his cock and gasped. It was thick and long, with a smooth purple dome; all sense of morality was gone, she couldn't wait to feel it inside her. He stroked it as he watched her, watching him. "Do you see what you do to me?" he growled as he moved towards her. "Now I have to fuck you." He pulled her back to the edge of the desk and rubbed his dome along her cleft, before splitting her labia with his prick and burying his shaft deep inside her. He closed his eyes and groaned with pleasure as he felt her heat engulf him. Stopping for a moment, savouring the tight prison surrounding him, feeling her muscles still clenching intermittently from her orgasm, he then grabbed her hips tightly and withdrew before slamming the full length of his cock back inside her. Sylvie loved the feel of his penis, filling her completely. She murmured encouragement as he fucked her hard and deep. "You feel so thick, fuck me Paul, fill me up with your cock." He needed no further bidding. Over and over, his hips slapped against her as he pounded into her cunt. Sylvie was insensible as she enjoyed his deep thrusts. "Yes...so good...fuck...harder...please...oh god, yes..." Paul drove into her for a few moments more, before withdrawing. She moaned with disappointment; her labia clung to his shaft as if to prove how reluctant her body was to release him. He reached forward and pulled her off the desk then pushed her down to her knees in front of him. Taking his cock in his hand, he rubbed it across her face, smearing his pre-cum and her juice over her mouth and cheeks. "Suck it," he commanded in a low voice, grabbing the back of her head with his other hand as he pushed his cockhead between her lips. Sylvie obeyed with pleasure, stretching her mouth wide to receive his girth as he slid deeper between her lips. She gagged as he touched the back of her throat and tried to pull away, but he held her firm. "Suck my cock, Sylvie. Show me how much you love to lick it." He withdrew, releasing his hold on her head and she gasped for breath as strings of saliva dangled from her mouth. "It's too big...I can't take it all..." she panted. Tentatively, she took his dome between her lips again, this time holding the bottom in her fist as her mouth slid along his length. She licked over the tip, her tongue sliding into the slit to taste the droplets of pre-cum before tracing the veins down the shaft and licking his balls. Then she took him back between her lips and started to fuck him with her mouth, taking him as deep as she could. Paul groaned. "You're pretty good at this, aren't you, Miss?" Sylvie stiffened at the reminder of her position. She released him from her mouth and rose swiftly to her feet, her face flushed with embarrassment. Don't Stand So Close To Me "Paul, oh god, this is all wrong..." "Are you going to leave me like this?" Paul demanded, nodding towards his engorged cock. Sylvie's eyes dropped and she licked her lips, struggling between desire and morals. Paul took advantage of her hesitancy and moved closer, wrapping his hands behind her and pulling her close. His mouth brushed over hers and his tongue traced the line of her lower lip. "I want you, Sylvie," he murmured. His lips brushed hers again and his hands slid underneath her top, moving up to trace her stiffened nipples through the fabric of her bra. Sylvie moaned heavily, giving in to the desire and returned the kiss; her hands roamed over him, stroking his back, the curve of his buttocks as his hand slid beneath the lacy fabric and cupped her breast. She arched towards him, pressing the aroused bud into his palm. "Let's get this off," he chuckled. Raising her arms, he lifted her t-shirt up over her head and dropped it carelessly to the floor. Then he scooped one breast out from beneath the bra cup and lowered his head, taking the nipple into his mouth and gently suckling. Sylvie's back arched again and she whimpered as his fingers searched between her legs again, stroking her moist pussy. Then his hands moved behind her and parted her buttocks, his wet fingers circling her tight rosebud. He paused, as if seeking permission, then his finger pushed gently against the natural resistance of her anus. She pushed back until she felt the tightness give way and his finger was wriggling inside her. Moaning softly, she moved against him as he gently eased a second finger inside her. "You like that, hmmm?" he asked as he wriggled his fingers deeper. "You want my cock in there?" Sylvie shook her head. "I've never...I don't...I'm not sure I can do that," she finally admitted. Easing his fingers out, Paul turned away and grabbed a chair, sitting down and drawing Sylvie towards him. "Turn around," he commanded and Sylvie did as she was bid. He pushed her legs open and pulled her backwards so she was astride his lap. Pushing his fingers inside her pussy, he then smeared the head of his cock with her juices. "Now, you're going to sit on my lap and I'm going to fuck that beautiful arse," he laughed. Holding his prick in one hand, he drew her down gently, positioning the dome against her ring. Sylvie gasped as she felt the head nudge her anus and start to push it open. Wrapping his arm across her waist, he pulled her down further onto him. She felt herself stretching open until he finally pushed through the barrier with a pop. Then he eased her down slowly until she was on his lap, his length buried in the tightness of her arse. "Doesn't that feel good?" He grinned. Sylvie nodded cautiously, still getting accustomed to the tight, full feeling in her rectum. Then he reached around and one hand gently stroked and squeezed her breast as the other slid between her legs and rubbed over her slit once more. Sylvie couldn't help it. She arched against him and she gasped as she felt him move inside her. Slowly they began to build up a rhythm, Sylvie bouncing gently on his lap as he fucked her, while his fingers worked their magic over her clitoris and inside her pussy. Her breath coming in ragged gasps, Sylvie knew she was close to orgasm. A flush spread across her chest and neck as she bucked and writhed on Paul's lap, his fingers sliding in fast circles over her nub as she climaxed. Paul felt her clench even tighter around him as the muscles contracted inside her pussy and he knew he wasn't far from coming either. With supreme effort, he held back; there was only one place he wanted to come. She slumped on his lap, overcome with the waves of pleasure riding her body; Paul gently lifted her off his cock and laid her back on the desk. Then, taking his shaft in his hand, he stroked it roughly until he exploded with a shout, spraying jets of hot seed over her prone body. Fountains of white goo splattered over her bare skin. Paul collapsed back into the chair, panting heavily. The room was quiet, save for the sounds of their breathing as it slowed and regulated. Eventually, Sylvie stirred. "That was incredible." She sighed deeply as she lay semi-naked across the desk, her ravaged anus gaping, breasts and belly covered with his rapidly cooling seed. "You're an amazing lover. How the hell did you get so good at sex?" Paul eased away from her gently and started to dress slowly. "Oh, my mum's best friend showed me the way," he said casually. "She broke me in and we've been fucking for a while now. She taught me everything I know." "Oh my god," exclaimed Sylvie. "Didn't you tell anyone? She must have taken advantage of you, you're so young..." she broke off, immediately aware of the vast difference in their ages and flushed deeply. "Nah, I enjoyed having an experienced woman teach me," he chuckled. "The trouble is, it's kind of spoiled me for girls my own age. I don't want an innocent; I want a woman who knows what she wants." He finished dressing, and then kissed Sylvie gently on the mouth, before walking to the door. "In fact," he said, "I have a particular penchant for teachers; specifically PE teachers." Sylvie looked at him, momentarily confused. "Paul, you know we can't do this again...I could get sacked...you could get expelled..." "Yes, it's become a bit of a problem," he mused. "But we'll keep fucking as long as I want you. Don't worry; Dad is a huge benefactor to the school. He and the headmaster are old friends." Paul opened the door to leave, and then turned back, as if he'd forgotten something. He grinned at her in a way that sent chills down Sylvie's spine. "Didn't you ever wonder what happened to your predecessor?" He smiled wolfishly, and then walked out; the door closed behind him with a click that Sylvie knew signalled the end of her career.