Lawrence swallowed through the lump in his throat. The dancer–Clementine, her name was on the website–would show up at any second as they ticked by, having just passed ten-o’-clock that evening. He sat at the edge of the cheap hotel’s king-sized bed, his right leg bouncing up and down rapidly and mindlessly. His heart hadn’t raced this fast in . . . *years*. Not since Ella was born five years prior and he got to hold his tiny daughter in his trembling hands for the first time as she wailed at the top of her little lungs–
*Knock, knock.*
Lawrence shot to his feet, gulped, and walked to the door. He pressed his left eye to the peephole and there he saw the back of a woman’s head. She had . . . orange hair? Like, bright orange, almost like a–
*Clementine*, Lawrence thought and mentally face-palmed himself. He took three deep breaths and pulled the door open. He saw from the girl’s back that she was very short but looked taller because of her stripper heels. She was slender with gorgeous dark-skinned legs and a teeny waist, but had hips and an ass very visible in her mini black slip dress. She was hugging herself and shaking a little, probably because it was chilly since it was pouring that evening.
She spun around and both their eyes widened in shock. Lawrence’s jaw dropped in disbelief and he exclaimed, *”Brielle??”*
He could recognize Brielle Mooney’s face *anywhere*. She was the quietest girl who ever attended his class at Pleasant Groves Preparatory School. He always found it odd she was always alone no matter what. When he had to monitor the lunchroom,she sat at the corner of a table by herself. She was usually next to one of the windows with her chin propped in her hand and her eyes staring outside. In class she always worked alone even when he offered everyone the opportunity to grab a partner. During class breaks, she sat under trees or on benches alone with a book sometimes. Despite always having her large brown eyes down at her shoes or lap, hooded by her long lashes, Lawrence never failed to notice this girl was stunning. Long curly dark brown hair, smooth chocolate skin, the most perfect and round lips he’d ever seen. He was always curious to see what she looked like under the large uniform sweater she typically wore over the collared shirt students were supposed to wear. But now he could see that she had as much of a stunning body as she did a face–slight but noticeable curves and b-cup breasts..?
“Mr. Trevino? Oh my God.” Brielle gasped.
“What are you doing, Brielle?” he asked, taking a step closer. She automatically stepped back into the rail of the balcony of the cheap hotel. “*You’re* Clementine??”
“Oh my God.” she repeated, and she shook her head. “I have to go.”
She started to go back the way she came, a hand to her face until a flash of lightning struck followed by a boom of thunder. More rain immediately began to pour and blow against her.
“Brielle! Come back!” he called and moved over to her and grabbed her by her elbow. “Come on, it’s raining.”
She looked out at the practically flooded parking lot of the hotel, rain thrashing against the couple of cars there, before she sighed and followed him with her head hung low.
The two of them shuffled into the warm room. Lawrence closed and locked the door before turning around to find that Brielle had already sat herself down on the bed. He cleared his throat before pulling out the available desk chair and sitting in front of her.
“Um . . . Have you been doing this for some time, now?”
“Not really. Never done the private dance before.”
Awkward silence.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Sorry?”
She looked intensely into his eyes, her eyebrows knit together. *“Don’t tell anyone.”*
Lawrence swallowed down yet another lump in his throat before shaking his head. “I . . . No. No, I won’t tell anyone. I mean, how would that look for me? Haha . . . Do your parents know–?”
“No. They’re not even around.” A few moments of silence, but so many questions he wanted to ask. How was she attending Pleasant Groves then–? “Why are you looking for a dancer, Mr. Trevino?”
“Oh,” he suddenly remembered. “Um, got some struggles at home . . .”
“Oh.” she echoed quietly, looking down at his hand in his lap to see a gold band around his left ring finger. “Kicked you out for the night?”
“You could say so? I think the whole weekend, haha.” he chuckled fakely.
She didn’t laugh with him. She instead peeled off her wet orange wig and stood to put it on the nightstand. She shook her curls out from the tight wig cap they were under; they fell around her small, wet shoulders. The black dress was sticking to her body even more and had risen up her hips a little bit from sitting on the bed.
Lawrence cleared his throat. “I . . . I already paid for the room. And . . . and it looks as though the rain won’t let up for a while . . . You can stay.”
She turned around halfway, looked him up and down in the chair, and bent forward to take off her heels. She was back to about 5’2”, like her description on the site promised. “Thank you, Mr. Trevino.”
He raised a hand. “Please, call me Lawrence.”
She sat back down. He intensely watched a drop of rainwater from her shoulder slide down her collarbones between her breasts, disappearing into the dress.
“This is awkward.” he muttered, still staring at her chest.
“What?”
“I ordered a private exotic dancer. . . I even paid the pre-meeting fee . . .”
Brielle looked at him for a moment before reaching to her small hip bag, unclipping it, and pulling out her phone and a little pink speaker. “Do you have a song you’d like?”
He stared, almost in disbelief. He shook his head and she nodded in understanding. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine. I have some.” she tapped away at her phone before the speaker lit up and a slow tune started to project from it. She turned off the lamplight on the nightstand and a warm rosy hue from the speaker was what lit up the room. Lawrence slumped in his chair as the girl slowly took a step forward, toying with the hem of her dress. She stopped in front of him and leaned forward to place her tiny hands on his knees.
Brielle pushed his legs apart and stepped between them before raising each leg one at a time and placing herself in his lap. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips. Then, her hips began to rock. Forwards and backwards, grinding her front against his throbbing boner. It was rock solid and it pressed against the fabric of his boxers and work pants. Instinctively, he clutched her hips and attempted to raise her dress until she grabbed his hands and stopped him.
“I’m here to dance.” she whispered quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
A moment passed and she slowly released him and began grinding again. She went from back and forth to circles. Lawrence could hardly contain himself. She rubbed her hands over his broad shoulders and leaned forward to place soft, wet kisses on his neck. Her lips were even softer than he’d imagined. The kisses were magic.
He tilted his head back and moaned in pleasure. “Brielle . . .”
She kissed down to the collar of his work shirt. She raised her hips slightly and wrapped her hands around the blue and grey patterned tie. She yanked his chest forward slightly before loosening the tie and drawing is off him. She tossed it over her shoulder and ubuttoned the first three buttons of his work shirt, now wrinkled.
She placed a quick kiss on his collarbone before standing and turning her back to him. “Would you unzip me?”
He instantly pulled the gold-colored zipper down her back until it stopped right at the small of her back. She pulled the damp fabric off her body, revealing she was wearing a white thong. She face him again, her bperky breasts decorated with glittery heart-shaped coverings over her nipples. They were still hard and poking through.
Lawrence grabbed her waist and pulled her back onto his lap. He placed his face between her breasts and inhaled her scent–she smelled so good. “Please, Brielle.”
“I-I told you–”
He squeezed her round ass and kissed her sternum and collarbones. “Let me touch you more.”
Her eyes widened slightly and for the first time since she started her little tease, she looked him in the eyes. “No. I can’t. I only strip.”
He kissed her neck now, and she placed her hands on his shoulders to push a little. “Mr. Trev–”
He picked her up and lay her on her back on the bed. He forcefully kissed her on the lips and she winced against his aggressive mouth. Having his lips against hers was even better then he could ever imagine. He stuck his tongue in her mouth, large hands running all over her petite body. His fingers trailed down to her thong and he pushed the tiny piece of fabric away from her mound. It was smooth and hairless, her lips fat and juicy-looking. He felt the tight entrance and she flinched and moaned.
“N-n–” she attempted against him but he only stuck his tongue further.
Lawrence poked against her entrance with the tip of his index finger. It was slick with her wetness and automatically began to suck him in eagerly.
“You’re wet.” he said against her mouth. “You’re so wet.”
He stuck his finger in and she moaned loudly. She was so unbelievably tight. He thought that she being a sex worker would be different . . .
He curled his finger upwards against her G-spot and her back arched instantly. Did her walls close in even more?? He continued to curl and extend his finger against her walls, pumping in and out a few times before curling it upwards again. Brielle gripped the sheets beneath her, hips bucking up.
*“Oh my God.”*
He slowly stuck in his middle finger next to his index finger, and he could feel her stretch a little. “Your pussy is wet and tight.”
He slid off her body and kneeled before her pussy. Juices were coating his fingers and knuckles, also running down his hand and wrist. She was soaked.
Lawrence then boldly placed his mouth over her swollen clit, automatically beginning to suck on it. Brielle yelped and pushed his head slightly.
“S-seriously!”
He used his free hand to snatch her wrists and hold them together. He prodded her little bud with his tongue in circular motions and even nipped one of her juicy lips. She groaned, back arching and hips bucking once again. He fingered her faster and faster. He lapped up her leaking juices. They were so sweet against his tongue he felt he could drink it up all day.
He body began to tense and her walls were closing tighter.
“I’m going to cum!” she cried helplessly. “I-I’m going to cum, Mr. Trevino!”
He pumped faster and deeper. “Go ahead and cum. Do it.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip and she groaned. He could feel the the orgasm wash over her entire body as a gush of juices flowed out. He pulled his hand away and watch her hole drip down the curve of her ass and onto the sheets of the bed. Her body slumped. He sat next to her.
“Open your mouth.”
She slightly parted her lips and shoved his large fingers into her mouth. She licked around and between his fingers, pulling away with a *pop* sound. She licked her lower lip and opened her eyes to look up at him. He lay down next to her.
“Don’t be mad at me.”
She turned over to kick him in his knee with a pout on her face. “I said no.”
“I know, it won’t happen again–”
“Again?? Only time.” she corrected, sitting up on her elbow. “You never saw me here. Okay?”
He felt somewhat disappointed in her statement and himself–of course they couldn’t see each other again. She was a student in his class and he should be grateful she wasn’t threatening to expose him for being some kind of pervert. But the excitement he just felt . . . he wanted to feel it again.
“Okay.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hfrpka/clementine_part_i_mf_teacherstudent_agegap_cnc