I’m looking at the video, feeling dirty and horny at the same time.
I’d almost just deleted the email unread. “I’m 18 now!” The subject line sounded like spam. But it was sent by Brielle, one of my students. She’s a senior, soon to graduate. One of the bright ones, quick to grasp the concepts, always gets A’s, but keeps quiet, avoids the spotlight. She’s a cute kid, though I’ve trained myself to ignore that in the classroom. And she dresses low-key, doesn’t flaunt it. Usually.
I read the email again. It’s not long. “Hi Mr Lamont. It’s my birthday, but I’m the one who’s giving gifts today.” With a winky face and a kissy face.
But then I flip back to the attachment. The video. Where Brielle’s in her underwear, sitting cross-legged on what I guess is her bed. She’s got on this white tank top that clings to her lithe body. Through the textured fabric I can make out the dark nipples on her breasts. I’m meant to see them. And then there’s her cobalt blue panties, stretched tight over the mound of her sex. She casually pulls them to the side, revealing her tight, bare, teenage pussy, and then her fingers give it a playful little caress.
But it’s the smile on her face that really has my attention, like she’s so proud of what she’s doing, so eager to show me this. It’s the same bright, honest smile she always has for me when she walks into my classroom, but somehow… what had been friendly is now flirtatious. Or maybe it always was. Her expression is innocent, and yet not innocent at all. She knows exactly what’s she’s doing.
The video’s only a few seconds long. And I must have watched it a dozen times now. I’m breathing hard, my cock is hard, and I keep rubbing the back of my hand against the crotch of my pants. In the classroom, the teacher can’t get distracted by attractive or flirty students. Nothing good ever comes from it. But the students are under no such obligation.
Why did she send me this video? Life had been simple, but now…
Fuck. I’m so turned on, but it’s fucked up. I didn’t ask for this, did I? I should probably ignore this email. I should delete it. Erase it from my memory. Act like it never happened.
I push ‘reply.’ Type, “Wow! Happy birthday.” I click ‘send.’
It says nothing. It’s an acknowledgment. “I got your note.” It doesn’t encourage her, not directly. But neither is it discouraging…
## ## ##
I’m hunched over my phone, refreshing my inbox, anxious for a reply. I can’t believe I sent that. I’ve dreamed of doing that. Travis Lamont, my English teacher. I don’t want to get him in trouble. But I can’t help myself. He’s just … so confident, so charming, so smart. Doesn’t waste words. So fucking hot. I want a guy like him… I want him. Even though it could never happen.
I’m been lusting after him for too long, fantasizing about doing what I just did… but I still can’t believe I actually sent that video. What’s he going to think? He’ll be responsible, never respond. Then tomorrow we’ll have to act like I didn’t just send him a sex video. He’s probably with a hot girlfriend right now. Someone his own age. She’s laughing when he tells her a student has a crush on him. She’s laughing at me. At my desperation. At my thinking that anything could happen. At thinking that Mr Lamont would break the rules. That he’d even be interested in me.
But he does respond. “Wow! Happy birthday,” it says. Terse, like he always is. But what the fuck does it mean? Did he watch the video? I mean, he must have. What do I do now? Send him another, naughtier video?
A vision flashes in my head. A scenario, me sending him video after video, him responding each time, “Neat! Thanks.” That’s not going to happen. That’s not what I want.
I type my reply. He always tells the class, “If you want something, be clear that you want it.” And I want this, so I decide to be explicit. “Can I come over?”
He writes back, quicker this time. It’s an address. There’s butterflies in my stomach. But I smile.
## ## ##
I’m leaning back on the overstuffed chair in my living room. I’ve got the stereo playing, spinning an album that’s dark and atmospheric. The lights are down low. Brielle’s perched on the couch, her pose tense, nervous. Her perfect, youthful olive skin glinting. Her eyes search mine. It’s the same look she gives me when I’m reviewing her classwork. She’s eager for my approval.
“Take off your coat,” I say.
She slides it off, setting it down on the couch next to her. She’s wearing the same outfit as in the video — the white top and blue panties. She arches her back, her limber form flexing. She watches to see how I react.
“Stand,” I say.
She does. I can see the slit of her pussy outlined in the blue fabric. She sees me looking, gently strokes herself. Her eyes flutter.
I make a spinning motion with my finger. She follows my instruction, turning around slowly. She faces me again, and I’ve got my pants down, legs spread, cock in my hand. It grows harder with each stroke.
Her eyes go wide, she sucks in her breath, grins.
“Kneel,” I instruct.
She drops to her knees between my legs, no hesitation. She goggles at my erection. My swollen dick is inches from her face. She parts her lips. We lock eyes.
I flash to the last time I saw Brielle. Earlier today. Stopping by my desk to ask a question about the homework. Lingering. She does well in my class. Went above and beyond on the thesis project I’d assigned. Frequently wants to review lessons. Is editor-in-chief of the school literary magazine that I advise. All that just means she’s a good student, nothing more. Except I’m now feeling her hot breath on my cock. Seeing her present her teenage body to me for the taking.
Her hazel eyes are locked on mine, filled with craving. I should tell her to go home.
“Suck it,” I say instead.
She brings her lips against the head of my cock, then pulls her hands away. She spreads her lips and takes my swollen shaft into her mouth. Her tongue slides down the underside, its velvet warmth caressing my glans. She keeps her hands on her lap, keeps her gaze fixed on mine. Her mouth pumps my erection, slurping and sucking.
I’m quick to grow fully hard. She doesn’t have much experience, but she makes up for it in eagerness. Brielle’s a cute girl, and seeing her lips stretched around my cock is such a powerful turn-on. A wash of desire is flooding through me, the taboo shattering, releasing a torrent of forbidden lust.
Her technique is straightforward. But she’s beautiful, and seems so eager for my cock. We still haven’t broken eye contact, and as I watch her suck on my thick shaft, my need for her builds and builds. I want to grab her head, shove her down, force my cock down her throat. But I restrain myself, let her take her time. I grip the armrests instead.
She has the most innocent look on her face. Even though her lips pump my shaft. Even though her cheeks are hollowed out from sucking. Even though her hair spills around her face as her head bobs up and down.
It’s incredible. This girl’s need for my dick is potent. I could cum in her mouth. I know she’d let me. Would welcome it, even. But I need more.
## ## ##
Part of me can’t believe this is happening. The rest of me is incredibly horny. Mr Lamont, calmly instructing me to give him what he wants. Telling me to suck him off. His fat cock growing stiff in my mouth. The way he looks at me, like he needs this. Like he needs me. This is better than what I fantasized.
It’s surreal, crossing the threshold into this other part of my teacher’s life. In my dreams, I was always just watching, observing as some other girl fucked him. But here, tonight, the other girl is me. I’m the one bringing him pleasure. I’m the one he’s lusting after.
He sits up, pushes me away.
What’s wrong? “Did I–”
“No,” he cuts me off. Moves behind me, shoves me down onto the chair where he was just sitting. I’m bent over the seat, my ass in the air. I feel his fingers against my pussy. I gasp as he rubs my clit, again as his fingers slide up inside.
His other hand is between my shoulder blades. He’s using his strength to hold me down, keeping me from moving. It’s so hot. I am so wet. I spread my knees, sliding them apart on the carpet, giving him easier access. Presenting my sex.
He’s fingering me. I moan, let him see how horny he’s making me. He yanks my panties to the side. My pussy is so ready for him. He massages my clit, making me groan.
His fingers go away, then I feel his hips against my ass. I know what’s coming. He rubs his swollen cock against my pussy lips. I need it.
“Do it,” I hiss.
I thought I knew what was coming. Yet when it happens, I find out I was completely unprepared. His thick cock penetrates me, pushing in fast, deep. I squeal, the pleasure is so intense. His rhythm is savage, depraved. He’s fucking me hard, using me. I shudder and buck, but his grip is strong and holds me in place, prevents me from moving. His thrusts are fast, brutal. I’m groaning loudly, uncontrollably.
He pounds me into the chair. I’m in bliss. I’ve brought out such fervent passion from my teacher. I was worth crossing the line for. I feel his cock shove its way inside me, over and over, and I moan with each drive.
I’m growing delirious from the pleasure, my eyes are rolling back in my head. My body shakes, but I’m pinned in place, his powerful arms pinning me against him as his thick cock skewers me. I try to tell him how hot he’s making me, but all that comes out is a long, low, “Fuuuuuck.”
My climax comes on like an electric shock, seizing control of my body, completing my subjugation to his cock. My limbs quiver. I groan, loudly. I instinctively try to pull away, but there’s nowhere to go.
Mr Lamont’s fucking continues, as powerful and unavoidable as a locomotive. He’s unconcerned with my climax, using me for his own pleasure, not for mine. This just makes me hotter, this is what I wanted.
I can feel him growing frantic, building to a grand finale. “Cum in me,” I manage, words distorted by the pleasure being driven into me.
He slams his hips into my ass, hard. Shoves me down onto the chair with renewed intensity.
“Not yet,” he growls, slapping my ass.
He grabs me, picks me up, lays me down on my back. He leans over me, pinning my knees beside my ears. He stares me in my eyes as he drives his cock into my spread pussy. He tenses, shoves himself in the deepest he can, and groans.
## ## ##
I don’t know when I lost control, but I’m holding nothing back. I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t help my need from spilling out, taking charge. I’m fucking Brielle hard. I’m giving her everything I can, and she takes it all with a smile. So fucking hot. I’m impaling her bareback, spraying my cum deep inside her.
And she fucking loves it.
When I finally let her go, pull my cock from her, it’s slick with our passion. I look at it in shock. I really just did that. Innocent little Brielle, defiled by my dick.
I’d do it again.
“Suck it clean,” I say. And she does, with no hesitation.
Later, in my kitchen, I hand her a glass of water.
“I should go now,” she says.
She’s flush, sticky with sweat. I say nothing.
She smiles at me. “See you in class tomorrow, Mr Lamont.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/kv83r0/the_nerdy_schoolgirls_crush_on_her_english
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