by Gayle Riley
“Please,” I mumbled.
“Please, what?”
“I don’t know,” I yelled in frustration.
“Please what, Lily,” he repeated, calmly, as he took off his blazer and threw it on the side.
“I need to cum.”
“How do you want to cum?”
“With your cock.” I glanced at his trousers. His trousers were tented, his erection trying to burst free to against his slacks.
His fingers made quick work of his zipper and he pulled his trousers down. His erection sprang up and pointed toward me.
He was thick and glorious. I knew the mechanisms and that it would fit, but it would take my body a while to adjust to that size. He was huge with precum coating the tip of his erection.
He was ready to slam into me.
“God, you’re beautiful. All spread out and ready for me to take you,” he said, wondrously.
“I’m not God,” I replied mischievously.
“Don’t I know it? You’re Eve tempting me with all your glory. This is fucked up but ever since that first day, I’ve wanted you with all of your ‘fuck off’ attitude. I’ve wanted to put that mouth to good use.”
“Then have me.”
He seemed to have second thoughts. “There is no going back from this. I’m your teacher and I should prevent this, but I can’t.” He laughed, self-mockingly at his need for me.
I reached up to pull him down from his tie and kissed him.
With everything that had transpired between us, I couldn’t believe this was our first kiss. It seemed like a lifetime since we’ve clashed. But, it’s only been a month since he entered our class. Each time we’ve fought and each time our lessons after class escalated.
His lips were firm and hard. I opened my lips and his tongue swooped in taking immediate control as in everything he does. He ravaged my mouth. We were lost in the kiss, our focus honed on the mimicking thrusts of our tongues. Promises of what was to come.
I reached down to wrap my fingers around his warm cock and tried push it inside me. I needed him inside me. He laughed against my mouth and didn’t budge. “A little impatient, love?”
He slid the tip of his cock in and my mouth fell open in anticipation.
He was taking his damn time.
“Hurry up, asshole.” With everything going on, I still hadn’t let go of that sassy tone.
He rammed in and buried himself to the hilt in one thrust before I finished the last word.
I flinched as he broke my barrier. He was breathing hard and held himself still, allowing me to adjust and get used to being filled before he started to thrust hard in a rhythm.
I wrapped my legs around and said harder.
He threw his head back and thrusted into me so hard that the desk started to teeter on its hind legs.
It was a little painful but it was the sweetest punishment as he once said. I matched him thrust for thrust. I was almost there.
He covered my mouth with his just as I was about to scream.
“Shh,” he said, mindful of where we were.
I was fucking my teacher and with that thought I came.
My body was vibrating, spent.
After a quick hard thrust, he threw his head back as I felt him starting to cum. He groaned and started to pull out so he wouldn’t cum inside me. But I locked him in the cradle of my legs. I was on birth control for my irregular periods. And a second later, his release filled me, gushing inside me.
He looked down at our coupling and the evidence—his semen leaking out of me. He was proud of himself. That basic animalistic fucking and visual had him hardening again.
We were both breathing hard after the exertion. I was languid and my legs unlocked from his torso.
“That was something,” he said softly pressing quick kisses across my lips.
But this was doomed before it could even go nowhere.
He was my teacher.
I was his student.
If anyone found out, I would be expelled and he would be fired and punished. At twenty-five, he was eight years my senior. All the blame would be placed upon his shoulders.
But him being my teacher had nothing to do in regards to my feelings toward him.
Over the course of the month, I was falling for this man. His authority. His commanding presence. His demeanor which relaxed only in private with me. I felt cherished and protected when he cradled me. Even when he punished me. He knew how far to take it without causing me pain or giving me reason to bolt. He gave me a safe place to talk about anything and everything.
We were two people who had the misfortune of being tabooed. Frowned upon.
I liked him.
And, I knew he liked me too.
What was next for us?
Dean had the uncanny ability to sense what directions my thoughts were going, he pressed his forehead against mine, silently reassuring me.
“We will make this work,” he pressed a kiss on my forehead, leaning into me. Coveting my softness.
He was still inside me when he started thrusting lazily and lifted me off the desk, slamming me against the wall. He didn’t care that I was sore. He took what he wanted. He wrapped my legs around his body and ravaged me. I threw my head against the wall when he trailed kisses down my neck.
God, he was good when he fucked me like that.
Afterwards, he grabbed his briefcase off the desk and rummaged though, looking for something.
He found a napkin and wet it with his water bottle. And he cleaned me.
“How?” I asked in askance to his previous statement.
He was focused on his task and the corner of his mouth kicked up. “What did I say about questioning me,” he said, teasingly.
I laughed. “Even when you piss me of, you make me feel better,” I started, “and alive.”
“You make me feel alive, too,” he said. “It’s been awhile since I’ve felt the need to protect and consume. My parents…”
We were interrupted when a knock was sounded at the door.
We both looked at each other guiltily
We sprang into action. I flipped my skirt down and he pulled his trousers up. Luckily, we were not in direct view of the window that was on the door so no one could see what we were up to. Or what we had been up to.
Dean and I locked into a room together would raise questions. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the coat closet with a finger on my lips warning me to stay quiet.
He closed the door and I heard his footstep tread towards the door and greet the student that came in for help.
“Hey, Mr. Carter.”
“How can I help you, Jack?” His voice was gruff and impatient. Hard and intimidating, Mr. Carter was back.
Jack sensed it and said. “Uh, I needed help on yesterday’s homework assignment.”
As much as Dean wanted to shoo him away, he couldn’t resist helping a student in need.
Even though the timing sucked, I was happy to learn he had integrity and liked teaching.
After what seemed hours but was only twenty minutes, Jack took his leave.
Dean entered the closet and there, among all the students jacket, he crowded me and hugged me.
I basked in the feeling of being wrapped around his bear arms.
Chapter 8
“Your parents…” I prodded, continuing our conversation before we were interrupted yesterday. It was after class and I stayed back even though the class was uneventful. I stayed in my place.
He sighed and dropped his forehead on my shoulders.
“They kicked me out as soon as I turned eighteen.”
“Why?” My heart breaking for him.
“My parents are in their seventies. They didn’t want kids at all. I was a late birth when they stopped using protection because my mom thought she was safe. She wasn’t and as much as they didn’t want kids, they couldn’t abort me. They should have put me up for adoption.
“I detested growing up in that house. I wasn’t allowed to ma
ke loud noises. I wasn’t allowed to go to my mother for comfort as a child should be able to. I raised myself and when I turned eighteen I was asked to leave. I put myself through college and doubled majored in mathematics and earned a teaching degree.
“I controlled myself to never need anybody. To be self-sufficient. Reliable. And I got though life fine and then I fell flat. When I saw you sitting in class—sad and strong. A dangerous combination. I needed you.”
I pulled him in closer and hugged him tightly, my heart breaking for the boy who never received comfort or love.
“I need you, too,” I replied against his neck.
He sank to his knees and pulled my panties down.
***
“Lily!” I was perusing the cafeteria for Kate at our usual table when she called me to join her.
Kate was out on the prowl sitting with the guys from our gym class. I settled into the bench when she introduced me to Brody, who was surreptitiously eyeing me.
I looked away not wanting to encourage him but then double checked myself and stared back forcing him to gaze away.
“Bitch, I haven’t seen you around much,” I complained.
I needed to share the past couple of days with somebody. I couldn’t share the specifics of but I wanted to tell her I met someone.
“Ugh, my parents forced me to go with them to their friend’s wedding. And they took away my phone.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Hey, what you doing this weekend?” Kate bumped shoulders with me.
I popped a fry in my mouth and unwrapped my cheeseburger. “Nothing,” I said after I finished chewing.
“Good. We are going to Brody’s for a bonfire. His parents are away for the weekend and their house is on the beach. It’s epic. You should come,” she gushed excitedly.
“You definitely should,” Brody winked at me.
I laughed and thought about it. This would probably be my last high school bonfire. “Sure. Thanks for letting me crash your party.”
“No problem,” He leaned in closer, “You’re hot.”
I glanced over at Kate who was discreetly giving me a thumbs up. “Um, thanks.” Not sure what to say.
He smirked and placed his hands on top of mine. I was surprised at the action and I started to slide my hand away, when a punk slip slapped across the lunch table.
I knew that hand. Those long fingers had been inside me earlier this week.
We were careful and settled in a routine of not antagonizing each other to avoid suspicion glares. Meaning no more punishments to be inflicted on me.
I looked up to see Dean glaring down at our joined hands. The tick in his jaw indicated that he was pissed.
“Detention tomorrow at lunch in my classroom, Ms. Lily.”
I groaned, “For what I responded.”
“Public indecency.” He gave a pointed stare to our hands, his nose flaring.
Okay. That was hot.
Brody tried to cut in and defend me. “That’s not fair, Mr. Carter.”
“But, I was just about to get asked out,” I shot out adding a breathless tone.
Squeezing Brody hands, my eyes conveyed for him to play along.
Mr. Carted fisted his hands tightly. He quivered with restless energy like he wanted to punch a wall. His jaw was flexed rigidly.
I grew aware of the tension brimming between us. His eyes boring into me.
This possessive and controlling man was brought to his baser emotions simply because of his need for a woman. A woman who was capable of bringing him to his knees.
The thought exhilarated me. Comforted me because I felt the same about him.
And I didn’t want to test him anymore.
He composed himself before speaking. “You will do no such thing,” he said to Brody, focusing his attention away from me, as if I muddled his thoughts.
Brody mouth fell open in astonishment. “Sir, you can’t control who I wanna ask out.”
Dean placed his hands on the table and leaned in closer until he was leveed with Brody. “Oh, but I can. Try me.”
I sat there, silently, taking in the scene before me, before jumping in.
“What he means to say, dating is frowned upon.” As much as I wanted to antagonize him further, I was aware of all eyes on honed on us—curious. I didn’t want Dean to face repercussions. We avoided each other all week for that purpose.
Some teachers would look the other way. We went to an all-Catholic school. Regardless, students still found a way to date as long as you were able to circumvent the prying and knowing glances.
“Good thing we can learn to be discreet,” Brody winked and leaned toward me.
Dean couldn’t take it anymore and pulled me to my feet. “Detention in my office. Now.”
“Damn, Mr. Carter, chill,” Brody snapped.
“Do you want detention?” Dean threatened.
Brody stared at me and retreated further back on his seat. Well, damn. Detention sucked. But I thought he would be willing to bear it to defend me.
Boys suck.
I was aware of the man maneuvering me toward the cafeteria doors.
Chapter 9
We stayed silent on our way to his class. A couple of teachers stopped to speak with Dean. He spoke with every single one of them, not caring that I was standing by his side.
I tapped my feet, impatiently.
Dean was doing a good impression of ignoring me.
And it was pissing me off.
We stopped outside of his class when he looked up and down the hallway before pushing me roughly into the class and locking the door behind him.
He leaned against the closed door and folded his arms across his chest. “Did you forget who was inside you?” He spoke a few minutes later.
“No. But are we exclusive? No boy is allowed to speak with me without you going berserk?” I snorted.
“Yes. No. I don’t share.”
“I wasn’t going to say yes.”
“Didn’t look like it,” he growled and pranced towards me.
My back hit the wall as I retreated. He crowded me.
He glared at me, harsh and possessively. “This is mine.” He grabbed my breasts, kneading them, roughly tweaking the nipples through my shirt. “And this.” His hands left my breasts to go down and cup my pussy. “And this cunt is mine.” His other hand stopped over my heart. “And this.” He whispered in my ear. “Got it?”
I was shivering with need. I palmed his erection. “This is mine.” I palmed his face and gazed into his eyes. “This is mine.” I palmed my hands over his heart. “And this.”
He cupped my ass and lifted so I could wrap my legs around his waist.
“God, Lily. You make me crazy. The control I had over myself is slowly breaking whenever I see you,” he groaned against my mouth.
“Good,” I whispered.
His eyes grew heated as they took in my entire body making an urgent sweep of perusal. His eyes were filled with angry, unforgiving lust. Like that of an animal, glinting eyes and biting rage and passion.
My back arched without involuntarily. My heaving breasts pressed against his chest. I clawed at his forearm, unable to stop myself.
Who knew? I was a scratcher. Sharp nails and stinging skin.
I looked at his lips. I wanted to claw them, touch them, taste them, taste the hint of his blood. I didn’t know who made the first move. But suddenly his lips were on pressed on mine and I was kissing him.
This was better than that first time. The first time we explored. This time we plundered our mouths against each other, our tongues dueling for the upper hand.
His arms wrapped around my waist and he squeezed tightly, crushing my aching breasts against his rough pecs. The pain only enhanced my sinful need for him. I bit his lower lip, and he growled, biting me back.
With one hand he encircled my neck and tugged my hair back. I locked my thighs around his waist. I pushed my core into his. It was wet, starving for him. Growling, he dug his torso into m
ine, making me feel his cock through his pants, big and hard.
I unzipped him, needing to feel his cock. Once I freed him, I unwrapped my legs and sunk down to my knees. He fisted his hands in my hair.
I stared at his cock, suddenly unsure of what to do. I had never done that before. His member was just huge up close and at eye level that it grew intimidating.
“Don’t overthink it, babe.” His voice was tinged with sexual desire and amusement. “Just do what feels right.”
I palmed his cock—stroking it up and down—and slowly found my rhythm. He threw his head back and groaned, holding on to my hair. His erection grew harder beneath my touch.
I, hesitantly, brought my mouth toward the head. Kissed the tip and pulled back to see his reaction. His eyes were shut tightly and he was breathing hard.
He liked it.
I wrapped my mouth around his cock and started sucking. Not taking him in all the way. Slowly, I increased and took him in further and further, careful of my gag reflex. I enjoyed the salty task of his skin. The way he made me feel and the way I made him feel.
He was holding back. I could tell he wanted to take over. And I wanted him to. I was out of my element. My pussy clenched.
I cupped his balls and he snapped. He thrusted into my mouth and pulled my head back and forth from where his hand were gripped in my hair.
“Finger yourself,” he ordered.
I pushed my fingers down and found my clit. I rubbed it, falling apart in seconds.
After a few moments, he pulled out of my mouth and to my feet. “I’m cumming inside of you.”
He splayed me on top of his desk and sank to his knees.
I closed my legs, reflexively.
He hooked each leg over his shoulder and licked my center. I lost myself in the sensation of his mouth feasting on me. He licked and probed searching for my clit. Teasing it once he found it.
“Don’t cum,” he ordered.
“I can’t help it. I’m about to,” I moaned.
Dean stood and wrapped my legs around his waist and carried me against the wall.
He was about to enter me when he said. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
Disorientated at the one-eighty, I asked. “How is that possible?”
His tip brushed my sex. “You’re graduating next week and going to Boston for college in two months, right?”