How I [F] got face fucked by my teacher [M]

It was my last year in highschool and I had just turned 18 two months before school started again. A little description: Short, dyed brown hair and blue eyes, fit, F cup breasts and a somewhat large ass.

English class has always been my favorite, but after I came into the classroom, I saw my teacher. He was arguably the worst teacher in my school, as told by my friends who had him the year before. During class, he’d just yell at everyone. One of the things I hated the most were his so called “jokes”, which were just borderline mean. He would always say how he’s the boss in the classroom, not us. Also, he’d always expect us to use “sir” when responding to him. It just seemed as if he had trouble controlling his private life and tried to bring back that control by sort of “dominating” his students.

Despite him acting that way in class, he was actually really nice. I’d sometimes talk to him after class and he’d read my writing and give me feedback on it.

I started talking to him more as time pass, almost every class and even longer breaks. I found out we actually had a few things in common, we liked the same music, loved reading books and learning languages. The fact that a man, who was in his 40s, and I had that many things common, was kind of sad to be honest. Not many of my friends liked these things and I sometimes wished I was more like people my age. However, I was still more happy to have at least one person to talk with about common interests.

Sadly, a few months later, my boyfriend at the time dumped me and I was heartbroken. Some of my grades dropped and I stopped talking to my English teacher after class. I stopped seeing him during breaks and I didn’t even say hi to him nor wave back to him after seeing him in the hallway. I just wanted to be left alone and I stopped caring about school. One day, he stopped me on my way out after class had finished and asked me to close the door. I was a bit hesitant, since I knew that he would talk to me about my grades and me not talking to him for a while. I knew that I was going to cry if he asked me what was wrong.

Guess what? He actually did, in almost the exact words that I had imagined. “What’s going on Amy? You stopped asking me for my feedback on your essays and you even stopped saying hi to me.” I broke down right after he finished his last sentence and to my surprise, he gave me a hug. It didn’t last very long, probably a few seconds, before tapping me on the back and telling me that everything’s going to be alright. I really needed that hug, even though it was a short one, to feel a bit better. I told him about my breakup and how crushed I was. His reply was: “You’ll be fine. I know it’s hard right now, but you’re young and you have your whole life in front of you. Don’t let a silly teenage boy hurt you.” That wasn’t really comforting at the time, since I was so hurt. We just talked about this for a few more minutes before I headed home with a visibly red and swollen face, due to the tears.

It took me about a week to get over my ex, more or less. I finally realised that my teacher was right and I really was fine. However, I started looking at my teacher in a different way. I started imagining what he looked like underneath the T-shirts he was always wearing. He seemed to be fit and had strong arms. Even his glasses looked hot on him, it made him look even smarter and I was so into that. He wasn’t very tall, about 5’8-5’9, but I didn’t care, since I am only about 5’2 and height really didn’t matter that much. I even started paying more attention to his voice, I just liked the way he talked. My favorite part of class was when he’d read a page of a book or a newspaper article.

I realised that I had a crush on him. Us talking a lot certainly didn’t help make that problem go away. At that point, our conversations weren’t strictly about education, they started to get more personal. He mentioned that he was divorced and that he had two kids, both of whom lived with his ex-wife. He also said that he was single, which I was, in a way, happy about. I talked to him about my parents, my friends and he’d sometimes give me advice on how to handle certain situations with the people around me. He started to be more of a mentor to me and I really enjoyed it.

I felt greatly ashamed of the way I felt about him and I just felt dirty. That however, didn’t stop me from watching a lot of porn and thinking about him fucking me. I now liked hearing him lose control during classes because I secretly wanted him to lose control with me.

A couple months passed by and all the classes in my year went on a trip. It wasn’t anything special really, we all just ate in a restaurant and went to a theater. Sadly, we were allowed to go home late at night, and since I lived far away, I would have most likely missed the last train and bus to my hometown and I I knew my teachers would help me, so I asked one of them if they could arrange something. To my delight, my English teacher could drive me home. I was very happy, but also felt a bit weird to be with him alone in a car because of my crush on him.

I thanked him and he opened the car doors for me. To be honest, I didn’t really listen to him talking during the drive, I just loved hearing him talk. The 30 minute soon came to an end. He got out of the driver’s seat to open the door for me.

“Well, here we are. Good ni-” that was all he could say. I instinctively leaned in to kiss him and he actually kissed me back while running his hand across my hair. He then suddenly stopped and pulled back from me.

“I should go. This isn’t right.”

“I’m sorry. This was just a stupid impulsive thing I did. I’m just a stupid teenager who has a crush on her teacher.” I said with tears now running down my face.

“Please don’t cry. We shouldn’t be anything more than a teacher and a student… It’s just not right.”

“You’re all I think about lately. I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself at this point.”

“Goodbye Amy.” He said while walking towards his car.

Before he headed to his car, I touched his shoulder “Could you please come inside and talk to me? I’m so lonely and have no one to talk about and my parents are not going to be home for a few days. I just need to talk to someone” I begged.

After repeating how wrong this was, he finally gave in after what seemed to be hours of me begging and crying. He was hesitant and clearly didn’t want to be seen by my neighbours, who were, luckily, asleep at this time of the night.

I unlocked the doors and lead him inside the house. He was visibly nervous, so I offered him a glass of water, leading him into the kitchen. He sat down on one of the chairs as I handed him the water. His hand was actually really shaky and I started to become nervous myself, because the last thing I wanted was for him to feel uncomfortable with me.

I started apologising again, but it seemed as if he wasn’t listening to me. I figured I’d use this opportunity to really talk to him about my feelings, just to see how he would react.

“I like you. I really do. But there’s more to this than just a simple crush…”

“Yes? Like what? He said with a surprised look on his face.

“It’s embarassing. I shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“Look. If you were able to convince me to come inside, you might as well just tell me what’s really going on.”

“There’s just… There’s just times when I think of you… Doing things.” I said, still crying.

“What things Amy? I need to know everything.”

“Sometimes, it’s as innocent as you hugging me and feeling your touch, but then there’s other times when I want something more. Something… Bad.”

He didn’t reply, he just stood up while not breaking eye contact with me. He seemed angry, I could see it in his eyes. The next thing he did shocked me… He slapped me.

I instantly started crying, thinking about what’s going to happen next.

“What the fuck were you thinking? How dumb are you?” He said while roughly sqieezing my face with one hand and just slapping me with the other.

I was a mess at that point. My makeup had already been ruined by the constant tears running down my face, but I was so turned on. I could feel myself getting wet.

“Get on your knees.” I did as he told me to, and in a way, I was finally getting what I wanted for the past months.

After this, it’s all kind of blank. He unzipped his pants and took off his boxers while calling me names, which made me even more turned on I have never been called a slut nor someone’s plaything during sex before.

He then took his cock in his hands and started stroking it himself, before I started doing it myself. I put the tip in my mouth, slowly licking it with my tongue. I then tried to take at least most of himin my mouth, but sadly, I’m not blessed with a no gag reflex, so I struggled. Since most of my “experience” came from watching porn and giving a couple really bad blowjobs, this wasn’t nearly good enough for him.

“Stop.” He said. I must’ve used too much teeth or I just wasn’t good enough, because he was clearly very unhappy.

“You call THAT a blowjob? This was your fantasy? You’re even worse than I thought.”

He then did something unexpected, he shoved the back of my head and forced me to take all of him. He moved his hips fast, sometimes stopping and holding my head with his cock fully in my mouth. I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose my breath.

This seemed like hours to me, but in reality, more like minutes. He used my mouth as a hole, almost not caring about how much pain I was in. After that, he took his cock outa of my mouth (and honestly, I was really glad) and started to stroke himself. Without warning, he came all over my face, the first spurt hitting my nose and right eye, the second rope coating my forehead and some hair. Not even my cheeks and chin were spared.

He didn’t say anything. He put the lower half of his clothes back on and left, without even talking to me. I stood up to look at myself in the mirror and all I saw was slut whose face was covered in tears, cum and saliva. I was disgusted by myself, but deep down, I knew I’d do it again…

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d991m9/how_i_f_got_face_fucked_by_my_teacher_m