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Only One Night

caniget1throwaway   December 02, 2018   | 43261 Views
“You’re teasing me.” “Is that so?” he returned, cocking a half grin. “You’re my student. That’d be inappropriate.” “I want you.” Even softer said, I brushed my hand against his resting beside me. He remained quiet for several seconds. “Say that louder.” He said flatly. stepmom

A former student reconnects with her high school teacher.

Author’s note: This is based on my real sex fantasy. It’s a slow burn. My writing is purely for self-fulfillment. Mr. W, if you ever read this, my offer still stands.

So, confession:

My crush on my teacher never really stopped.

Let’s call him Mr. W. It started approximately 9 years ago when I began his English class at small local high school. I had known about him prior to starting the class as my boyfriend at the time would often talk about him. He was known for being a bit of a peacock, overly confident with a favoritism toward his athlete students who played for him on the baseball team. He was newly divorced and the only halfway decent looking teacher on staff, making him the default target of any girl infatuated with an authority figure.

Now, I had never had strong feelings toward anyone. Even with my few boyfriends, I had never found them physically attractive. All of my sexual interest has been targeted at people who are unrealistic, like celebrities. For that reason, I have given up on enjoying that aspect of my life. To this day, I have I have never met anyone in person who I could lust after. Until him.

You know that feeling you get when you just connect, inexplicably, with someone? As soon as I met him, I got the immediate impression we would have great sex. The type of thick tension you need a chainsaw the get through. He is nothing like my self-identified type, but I had this raw primal compulsion toward him. This was a shock to me as I was very shy and embarrassingly did not have any sexual experience until after college. I would never do anything inappropriate, and didn’t, but his insistence on giving me attention did not help the matter. I was introverted, bookish and sarcastic, making me an easy listener for someone. And boy did he like to talk.  He was confusing to say the least, at one moment speaking at length about comparative analysis and his opinions on the romanticization of corporate culture in America to acting like a blockhead jock the next.

I would sit in class squirming, struggling to pry my attention off of him. I wanted him to feel as attracted to me as I was to him, so I did my part, trying to appear girlishly tempting but meek enough to remain casual. He may have been no model but God was he handsome. At 34, he had grown into a mature attractiveness that few men reach until their 40’s. Deep tanned skin from being outside with his team, a lithe collection of muscles filling out his shirt from his time working out. Clean trimmed blonde hair that was a nice change from the typical close cropped look of men in the Midwest. Deep blue eyes whose magnetism made it difficult to look away. That being said, my favorite feature was the sharpness of his nose. Many times I had imagined sitting on his face, writhing as I grinded the slickness of my pussy onto his nose and mouth. His voice had a rough graveliness to it, a graveliness that I wanted to hear groan and whisper pleadings into my ear.

Somehow for that year I was placed right next to his desk, making me the receiver of frequent smalltalk, and general attention. Fr some unknown reason, he was drawn to me even though I was nothing like his normal favorites. He would tell me about his life, how he was dating his former classmate because it was easy even though he didn’t particularly like her. How he wanted to begin publishing and how we could work out a deal where I provide illustrations. I was an accomplice in class jokes, being reliable to follow his lead dutifully and receive secret notes with instructions without alarm. After his class that year, he would still go out of his way to talk to me alone in the cafeteria or seemingly harmless things. At one point, he placed me on the committee of a club he was running even though I wasn’t on the ballot. This led to outside interaction, including getting dinner where he sat with me at a table before my friends could reach me.

Next came senior year. It was implied that he may have found me pretty, through a series of events that never quite crossed the line, he described being attracted to my physical type: pale skin, long dark hair, with a hint of mischief. The only moment where it became clear something was up was when I was walking down the hallway alone during my senior year. He was walking alone behind me when suddenly I was pushed in an area that caved into a private hallway reaching the library. The full front of my body met the wall as the weight of a person pressed against me for 3 seconds. Shocked, I stood silently while an exhale heaved against my back, breathing in the rich scent of his cologne. As soon as it had begun, he let go and continued walking down the hallway normally. I tried to come up with reasonable explanations in my head for what had happened, but none could make sense. I pretended as if that incident had never occurred and he never did it again. Graduation day, he takes one of my senior photos that looks particularly sultry. Hearing him tell me how I looked like a model gave me the biggest ego boost. It was that which pushed me into trying my hand at some light modelling work once I was in college. Later on, I see him at a mutual friend’s party and he followed me alone into the room while I got food. He started to talk but quieted down when someone else came in. Another friend of mine and I left shortly after and I never received closure on what he was going to say. Since that day, I have not seen him and assumed we would never see each other again.

Or, at least, that’s what I thought.

I am now 24 years old and came out of puberty swimmingly. My creamy white skin became blemish free, my body remained slender and my small breasts pleasantly perky. My romance in college had been mild, with 1 serious boyfriend while I had been focused on my studies. It seemed that no matter how hard I tried to engage with someone, a fleeting thought of Mr. W would intrude. For me, he was someone who could play the game with me. We could both feel something, but would deny and tease around the subject. I dreamed of us meeting again, of him finally crossing that line and taking control, with me being the receiver of those years of built up desire. I had spent numerous nights lying in bed circling my throbbing clit, imagining that he would practice torturing me and making me beg and cry out for him. How would it feel to feel him behind me, roughly holding my throat as he edges me again and again, denying me what I want most? How would it feel to finally have that deep yearning in my abdomen explode, only to have him driving his hard cock into my raw sensitive pussy once I’m done? In my desperation, I would look him up online to see if he was dating. Maybe one day I would be ballsy enough to let him know that I would let him do anything to me? However, I learned to give up those dreams and keep them as only my most secret fantasies.

It was last weekend that I went back to my hometown to visit my aunt for a bbq get together. Closing in on the end of the fall season, they decided to throw once last get together to see everyone and enjoy the weather. Of course, reuniting with old family and friends came with the same repetitive questions. Yes, Aunt Joyce, I do like working at my job. No, I’m living alone in my own apartment now. No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I sat quietly at the kitchen table as a swarm of family friends treaded next and around me gossiping with one another. Rehashing my life story every few moments required repeated refueling in my wine glass to stay sane, but I figured if I ended up drunk enough that could roll downstairs and hide from the crowd until the next day. By now, I was a little past tipsy ready for the evening to be over with.

“Hey! Look at our new neighbor!” my aunt exclaimed with a high-pitched glee.

I took a sip of wine as my eyes wandered over to the door.

Dear god.

“Hey.”  Mr. W gave a half-efforted nod and placed a bottle of liquor on the table.

Inhaling deeply, the muscles of my stomach clenched as I processed this information.

Oh god. He’s here. Not ready. Does he see me? He’s looking this way! Play it cool. He’s not interested in you. Don’t be creepy. How is still so hot? He must be, like, 43 now.

In my staring, our eyes met. I’m sure I looked like a confused deer at that point. He gave a small nod of recognition and a light smile.

“Everyone, this is Kevin, he was moved into the condo next door.”

I kept my distance. And by that, I mean I watched him like a hawk through the corner of my eye. From what I gathered, he and his girlfriend had broken up some months ago and he wanted to move into a smaller house. Trying to keep myself together since I knew it was never going to happen, I walked downstairs for a breather.

It’s fine. It’s like he’s not even here. Besides, don’t you have a Tinder date in a few days. Let it go.

I went to their beer closet to rummage through the refrigerator, weighing my options to watch on TV until the party was over.  The door opens.

“How’s it going?” I turn around to see Mr. W standing there, hands on his hips, giving me a quick eye up and down.

“Hey!” I nervously exclaimed. I gave a nervous tug on the hem of my blue sundress. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“It’s been what” he inhaled dramatically “Seven years now?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I swallowed. “Just finished my Master’s. Working full-time now.”

He walked closer.

“I always wonder what happens when you guys graduate. But look at you! You’re all grown up now. You look good.”

“Yep.” I heard the sound of my aunt talking with friends growing louder as they entered the basement. I brushed past Mr. W and went into the main area.

Do really think people are going to be suspicious?

“So, how are things at the school?”

He followed me out.

“Same old, same old. Mr. S finally retired. Working on my book. Are you still doing art stuff?”

He remembered.

“From time to time. I don’t have a lot of time anymore.”

Before I could go much further, he was ushered into a group with friends as they drank over the smoker.

Man, I must be desperate.

I sat on the couch and tried to remain focused on the conversations being directed toward me. I kept stealing glances at him outside, hands on hips and pelvis slightly thrusted out. I watched every detailed his body would make the way his nose would scrunch up when he tried to be sarcastic, or his smug grin as he talked about his latest golfing endeavor. Somewhere in my daze, his eyes met and caught me staring. I hastily turned away as he gave a hearty laugh to whatever story was being told in his group of people. Moistness slowly collected in the fabric of my panties as I fought imagining a more x-rated turn of events for the night.

Night hit, and the party was finally leaving with only a few stragglers left behind. Mr. W appeared again, giving polite thanks to my aunt and uncle before heading his way toward the door. I gave a exhale of relief and closed my eyes.

You were worrying about nothing. Nothing happened. Let it go.

“Hey.”

 My eyes opened. He was standing in front of me.

“I know it’s getting pretty late, but I was wondering if I could get some feedback on some pieces I’m writing. Do you mind stopping by in like 15 minutes. You’d be doing me a favor.”

“YES.” The wine must have hit. “Yeah-yes. I can do that.”

“Great.” He grinned. “See you in a little bit.”.

This is happening. This is happening right now. What exactly is happening? Stop panicking. You got an A+ in your writing classes for a reason. Just check it out. And him out. Play it cool.

By the time my head cleared, 90’s of the party was gone. My aunt and uncle, knowing I’m tired of people by now, wished me good night as they went upstairs.

Now it was just me and the quiet. I gulped.

Next thing I know, I’m knocking on his front door.

It creaks open.

“You made it. Come on in.” I step inside, my heart thumping a million beats per minute. His house was fairly barren. A desk with a dimly lit laptop is against on wall with his tv and couch against the others.

“I have it pulled up on the laptop if you don’t mind giving it a once over.” He said, ushering me over.  I adjusted the laptop and began skimming it. He leaned against the arm of the couch.

Oh, he really did want me to read it.

I scrolled through, it was a thriller piece he had mentioned way back when.

“What do you think?” he asked after several minutes.

“Good, good. I’m just trying see if the side detective gets a bit clearer.”

I felt him come up behind me. “Do you need me to clarify something. It’s been more laid out in the exposition.” His hands out form each side behind me and gripped the table. I froze. His head leaned over my shoulder and he clicked his way through some pages. My breathing deepened as I glanced at his faces inches from my own.

“Now take a look.”

My eyes went back to the screen. The heat of his body pressed against my own as he drew on close. He must have knelt into my neck because soon the moist hot air grazed into my neck. I stepped back, only meeting my ass with his pelvis. I can’t handle it anymore.

I turn around and face him.

“Do you need something?” God, that smug face. He’s playing with me.

“What do you want from me?” I ask softly.

“I thought I asked for your feedback.”  His eyes were icy and cool, but stirred something warm. He inched closer to me, nose just short of meeting my own.

“You know what I mean?”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Is that so?” he returned, cocking a half grin. “You’re my student. That’d be inappropriate.”

“I want you.” Even softer said, I brushed my hand against his resting beside me.

He remained quiet for several seconds.

“Say that louder.” He said flatly.

“ I WANT you.” I spouted out. Nuzzling my face into his cheek. “Don’t make me beg.” I could feel my wetness pooling against my leg. It was now or never.

“We shouldn’t. You should go back.” He said quietly. His lips grazed my own, eyes burrowing into me.

“One night only. No one ever knows. We never see each other again.”

That must have seem acceptable to him because soon his warm lips crashed onto mine. I gave a deep groan, to which he responded by prodding his tongue to my eager mouth. His hands flashed to the small of my back, tracing up and down, tracing the curvature of my him before settling to the mound of my ass. I grasped at his shirt, pulling myself closer into him, attempting to gratify the emptiness that had been inside me for so long.

Kisses sloppily made their way to the crane of my neck, small nibbles trail up and down to my collarbone. A hand desperately made its way to my chest flicking over before clutching onto my breast. I t was at this point that I realized that not wearing a bra today had leaned in my favor, the firm bud of my nipple being smoothed over repeatedly by his gentle thumb. The small of my back hit uncomfortably into the edge of the desk, but soon became relaxed as he ushered me to straddling him as he sat upright on the couch. My smooth legs cross over each side of him. Kisses moved southward on my chest as his fingers toyed with the straps of my dress. Moving upward the front of my neck, he heavily groaned “Have you been a good girl or a bad girl?” The fingers formerly kneading my as moved their way under the him of my dress, brushing the smoothness of my thigh before grazing against the soaking wetness seeping from my panties. I felt myself blushing.

“You love this.” He whispered. I moaned, seeping in the moment.

He flipped me on my back, hovering over me. He was in charge now. He pulled the hem of my drew to my waist, revealing black lace underwear hiding my perfectly bare pussy from view. Using both hands to grasp each knee, he spread my legs open as he knelt in from the floor. Gentle kisses trailed up thigh, fingers teasing the edges of my underwear. It felt like several minutes. It was heaven, but it was also my torture.

“Tell me what you want.” He breathily said into my leg.

“I want you to kiss me.” I breathed out.

I mouthily breathed against the outside of my panties. “Try again.”

“I want you to lick me.” I moaned.

His fingers tugged down on the fabrics of my underwear.

“One more time.”

“I want you to lick my pussy!” With one swift motion, he ripped off the fabric swooped his head. Like a dog who needed water, he lapped hurriedly as pushed a pulled against him. “Uhhh-AhHH!”

I clenched my fingers into his back, mouth agape as he traced the alphabet against my clit. Each flick became more pointed, more precise. Sweat began beading against my skin as a familiar warmth pooled in my stomach. There it was, the edge I had been craving. Then he stopped. Standing up, he unbuckled the belt of his pants unzipped, pulling out the hard cock that had been hiding all this time. It was like a piece of meat, ready to be eaten, and here I was hungry. He was average sized but was impressively thick. He grapsed my shoulder and guided me over so I was on my hand knees. I looked up at him. He was starving for this as much as I was.

“Suck.” He ordered.

I gripped my palm over the length of his shaft and turned it to my lips. I let my lips brush over the velvety skin, giving soft kisses until I met the head. I gave a firm lick like a lollipop.

“Mmph.” He groaned, closing his eyes. I began twisting his shaft with my hand as my tongue danced over his tip, gently taking him in my mouth as I sucked and jerked. Bobbing up and down, I enjoyed the sweet saltiness of his sweat in my mouth as he struggled keeping his composure. I felt his hand travel behind and begin probing around my vagina. I stuck my own hand around to ease spreading over my cheeks, allowing him deeper access to my sopping vagina. I inhaled sharply as a digit coaxed its ways in, exploring the warmth of my inside before moving in and out. This was a deeper feeling than I’ve ever had. And certainly none of my previous boyfriends had ever made me feel this way. I closed my eyes and pants, breaking from his cock to enjoy this new feeling. I panted heavily, groaning as he inserted another digit. A third teased the outside as I felt my muscles stretching. I began bouncing back and forth on his hand. What was he doing to me? I began squeezing and pulling at nipple with a free hand, wondering about the slut I had become. Soon, the warmth of my abdomen exploded.

“I want your cock!” I blurted out, thrusting wildly. “Uhghhhh-AHHH! AHHHHHH!” I could control it no longer as my orgasm flooded over me, legs trembling and shaking.  I whimpered softly, enjoying the bliss of our labor. After a momentary breather, I heard him.

“Yeah?” He snickered from behind, turning me so that my knees were on the floor and my front lying on top of the couch. He was going to fuck me doggystyle. Fingers quickly retreated from their home in my pussy while I let out a sad moan for the emptiness I now felt. Soon, however, it was replaced with that wonderful velvet that stretched my open, shoving its way deeper inside me. I felt his pelvis hit my ass as his hips slammed into me. My pussy felt like it was on fire.  With each thrust, we groaned. He gave my ass a quick slap, leading me to yelp. His hand moved to my breast while the other rested on my hip guiding over pelvic dance. I bounced back and force to meet his rhythm as he quickened, my senses becoming a blur as my thoughts focused on only the terrible and beautiful warmth inside me. Faster and faster it hit me, his groans becoming louder before finally gasping out, his teeth grating against my back. I nearing my own end, which he seemed to realize, as he gave a few more thrusts before I cried out. Muscles clamping against his cock, I felt the waves of pleasure consume me again. For a minute we both panted, his hand finally patting my side as he slipped out. We both slipped down to the floor sitting next to each other, eyes moving across the fruits of our deed. His eyes darted straight ahead as he broke out into another smug grin. I think I might have to visit my family more often.

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