[FM] Teasing my teacher into using me + pic [FM] (x-post /r/stupidslutsclub)

He had a kind of quiet confidence that I admired. Listening to him talk made me feel calm. I always looked forward to his lectures because I knew I would leave them relaxed and in a good mood. There was a directness to him that I found appealing. He made no attempt to manipulate or structure things, simply stated his thoughts as they were. English class had always been my best subject, but having him teach it made me look forward to it even more.

The first time I approached him after class I genuinely just wanted his advice and guidance, nothing more. The way he was sitting at his desk- completely absorbed in his work- was attractive to me, but I never expected anything to actually happen. Of course I’d fantasized. I was a slave to my libido. Especially after what had happened before. I was obsessed with the idea of crawling under his desk and making him feel good while he worked.

That first time we talked one on one outside of class I knew there was something in him that I liked instantly. I’d noticed it before, his comments on my papers or the way he responded to my discussions in class; he didn’t sugar coat anything, simply treated me as an adult that he could share ideas with. The conversation we had that day only lasted maybe ten minutes, but I felt such a strong attraction to him afterwards that immediately after going home I fantasized.

I’d teased him before then, bending over slightly and pretending to be oblivious as he dared to glance up my skirt. I’d wondered if he had seen the wetness of my white panties, though I thought it was more likely that he had no clue to the extent of my lust. As my desire for him grew, I sought him out more. I was so eager for his attention. However, he continued to treat me as he did any other student. Even the most blatant teasing would result in nothing more than a casual glance from him.

I went off porn and erotica for a while because of my obsession with him. Only thoughts of sucking him off or riding him at his desk did it for me. I’d ride a pillow, moaning his name into my mattress and clutching at the sheets. I’d blush when I saw him the day after, flustered with the thought that he might read it on my face. He showed no sign of picking up on my little crush, just his same dispassionate and mildly sarcastic self. Of course we continued to exchange thoughts casually after class, as a teacher would do with any dedicated student. He was always careful though, the conversation stayed strictly educational, and I noticed that he would always make an effort to leave the door open and not get too close to me. I wanted so badly to break the touch barrier, feel his hands on my skin and the warmth and safety of his body, but I didn’t dare for fear of scaring him off. I wanted him to see that I was rational, not a giggly school girl looking for an easy A.

I plotted constantly of how I could steer the conversation towards his personal life while remaining delicate and polite about it. I was frustrated and amazed at the way he effortlessly turned every attempt into a clinical reply, putting me firmly in the place of student. The more frustrated I got the more I teased, but nothing happened, not even one intimate conversation. He was impossible to crack.

For a while I gave up testing his iron will and instead just focused on enjoying the conversations we shared. Intellectually, he became a guide and mentor to me. We’d discuss books or exchange suggestions, he’d read my writing and critique it for me. At the time he seemed so mature and intelligent, he could talk about anything. It was in stark contrast to guys my age. The more we talked, the more I was rewarded with hints to things he kept under the surface. I knew I was falling in love with him.

When it finally happened it was by no design of my own. I had had some kind of fight with my parents, something meaningless now, but at the the time it had seemed so meaningful. I was under pressure to improve in school (my grades had dropped slightly since my rape) and was struggling to fit in with my friend group. I was close to a breaking point. I wasn’t planning on talking to him after class that day, just heading straight home to find my release. He stopped me on my way out of the classroom, asking me if everything was fine. My eyes filled with tears instantly. It was one of those moments where my emotions were so pent up that simply having them acknowledged sent me over the edge. I struggled to hold back sobs and tried to hide my face. He just said to me, “Take a seat. I’ll be with you after everyone leaves.”

When the classroom was empty he closed the door and walked over to me. He knelt down and took me in his arms. I felt myself melt into him, surrounded by his scent and his warmth. We stayed like that for a while, just hugging. I was overwhelmed with desire, my heart was pounding and the space between my legs was burning painfully. I pressed my body closer to his and tried to kiss his neck, but he pulled away.

“What’s going on with you?” He asked. I told him about my parents, about school. I opened up about everything except for what had happened to me. The thought of him finding out about that filled me with shame. The idea that I might be ruined for him haunted me, but I buried it. I wanted to make it disappear, pretend that it hadn’t happened and that I was still pure and untarnished. I was grateful that I still had at least my virginity intact so that I might still have something to give him.

Something changed after that incident. We didn’t acknowledge it verbally, but there was a closeness and innocent intimacy that wasn’t there before. Conversations were no longer limited to educational topics. I opened up immediately, relieved to finally be able to talk to him freely. I shared every thought that went through my head – all except the ones that I carefully concealed, about my sexual fantasies and my rape. There was nobody else that I felt safer or more comfortable with, and maybe if I hadn’t have had romantic feelings for him I would have been able to tell him what had happened to me. He was slower to open up, and I had to very gently and carefully coax him into revealing things to me. I learned about his marriage, how they were having difficulty and were talking about divorce. I tried my best to stay supportive, but of course I couldn’t help but feel blissful at the thought of what might happen when he finally became single.

I had been working on a group project after school in the library one day and thought I would stop by his classroom afterwards to see if he was there. My heart jumped as it usually did when I caught sight of him working at his desk. I slipped inside and closed the door behind me. I wanted him so badly, every part of me was screaming for him to just take me already.

“You should leave the door open.” he said looking up annoyed as I walked over to him and sat down in front of his desk.

“There’s no one around, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re doing anything anyway…”

“You know it doesn’t look good for me to be here alone with you.” There was tension in his voice, like he was irritated about something- was it really just about the door? I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have come in. Suddenly I felt like just a student again. He wasn’t looking at me with warmth or closeness, just collected but strained. I felt embarrassed. I wondered if maybe I had overstepped. I changed the subject to the educational, leaning over and taking a paper I’d done from my school bag.

“Can you give me advice on this? I’m wondering if maybe it’s too…I don’t know have a look at it.” I passed it to him and leaned closer as he skimmed it.

“It’s fine.” He handed it back to me after just a minute’s glance.

“Okay, you seem busy I’ll head out now. Thanks!” I caught the mood and stood up to leave. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He looked so tense. I couldn’t help it, I had to pry a bit.

“Hey are you okay?” I asked walking back over to him. He stood up from his desk and again I felt that strong pull to go to his arms, to melt into him and get as close to him as I could. I couldn’t stop myself, I had to feel some contact so I took his hand. My heart was pounding.

“I’m fine. It’s just it hasn’t been the easiest time for me. It’s been really hard the past two months. I’ve been trying my best to support her. And I come here and you’re just…so tempting, you’ve been getting closer, teasing me relentlessly day after day.”

I couldn’t say anything, I just looked at him in awe. I hadn’t even realized. There was a very tense pause. I couldn’t stop myself, I went to him. He didn’t hold me at first, just stood stiffly, but then he broke down and grabbed me, holding me tightly to him. I started to cry, telling him over and over that I really liked him, that I wanted to be with him. I kissed him with tears running down my face and he couldn’t stop himself from kissing me back and running his hands over my body. Then abruptly he stopped, pulled back from me.

“You should go.”

“Please.” I begged.

“I can’t. This is wrong.”

“Please, can you just drive me home then?”

I begged a little more and he gave in. He left the classroom first, telling me he’d drive around front and pick me up. I waited for him there, thinking of what I could do. I knew I wanted it, I was pretty sure that he wanted me too. My heart was beating so fast I felt dizzy. I kept wondering over and over if it was really happening, if maybe he wouldn’t come get me, but then his car appeared and he leaned over and opened the door for me.

I could barely speak the entire drive, just enough to tell him directions on where to turn. My body was so weak. I felt sick with desire for him. And the silence…I wondered how I could get him to fuck me. Should I just ask? I knew he would reject me if I was too straightforward. I asked him to pull over. He didn’t say anything, so I stopped giving him directions to my house. Eventually he drove down a deserted road and pulled over. I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned over, laying my hand gently on his thigh. We finally made eye contact. I watched as his body relaxed. He broke down, and started to tell me the specifics of what had happened with his wife. I just listened. I didn’t offer any advice because I knew there was nothing I could do. When he finished talking I leaned over and and unbuckled his seatbelt. I knelt over him, running my hand up his thigh and very lightly brushing over his lap.

My heart was beating so fast, I wasn’t sure if he would let me do it but I couldn’t stop. I unzipped his pants and bent my head over it. My mouth was watering, I wanted to taste him so badly. I looked up at him as I took him into my mouth. He was leaning back into the seat. I focused on getting him hard. I had watched so much porn that I had the theory of it down, but really I just wanted to savor the feeling of sucking him and not think of anything else. I felt such intense gratitude for him, I wanted to worship him and give him everything. Under my skirt, I felt wetness drip slightly down my thighs. I was so turned on I had to stop myself from sucking him too hard. He moaned slightly, and took hold of my hair, running his fingers through it gently before taking me by surprise and forcing my head down onto him. I gagged and tried to pull off of it, but he shoved me down harder on it. He continued to fuck my face, losing all regard for me and just using my mouth for his pleasure.

He thrusted into my mouth for what felt like forever, ignoring me when I tapped him. I could hardly breathe as he kept fucking my throat like it was a hole. My sight was blurry with tears, my face covered with my spit. I was gagging and choking, but still he kept going. However this time I wasn’t confused at all. I craved it. He was rougher with me than my rapist, but I loved taking it for him.

He pulled me off it, slapped me hard, bringing me back to my senses. I gasped for air before he forced me back down onto it “It’s your fault. You made me do it. Now you’re getting what you wanted so badly.” His thrusts were getting rougher and deeper. He pulled my hair harder and I felt it pulling painfully at my scalp. I had him deep in my throat. I felt it throbbing, and choked on his hot fluid as he finished

I coughed and swallowed with difficulty while he pulled his pants back on. I was still burning and my panties were soaked and sticking to me uncomfortably. I crawled over the divider between the seats into his lap and wiped the spit off of my face before kissing him. I pulled my shirt off, put his hands on my body. I begged him to please put it inside of me. I whispered to him that I loved him, but he just apologized and said he couldn’t. I was so frustrated I couldn’t stop myself, I just kept grinding on him begging him to please do it, that I loved him and that he had to be the one to take my virginity. Eventually he snapped, taking me by the throat and forcing me to look at him.

“Get off of me. I’m taking you home now. Tell me the directions.” He said, starting up the car before I had even gotten back into my seat. He refused to look at me the entire drive home. I only spoke to him whenever we had to turn. “Put your shirt back on.” He said glancing at me.

Just as I had done after my first sexual encounter, I went straight to my bedroom and cried desperately. This time however, I didn’t want to shower him off of me. I wanted to wrap myself in his scent and preserve the feeling of him. I covered myself with blankets and imagined him holding me while I cried myself to sleep.

[For those interested in me](https://imgur.com/a/i87x7PN)

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9wkh51/fm_teasing_my_teacher_into_using_me_pic_fm_xpost