The Teachers Favorite

George Tanner was tired. The kind of tired that seeps into your bones and causes your eyes to ache. There was a pressure building in his head and he knew a headache was coming on fast.

Teaching high school was not his calling, not really. When he got his degree in history, he had thought he would be a high-powered lawyer. But law school was expensive, and the bills kept coming. So, he accepted this teaching job at the local Catholic school. The pay was horrible, the students annoying and unenthusiastic, and the harsh florescent lighting was almost as bad as the lack of funding.

But today was Friday, he had to finish grading a few more papers and then he was home free. Free to get drunk and watch porn, jerk off, and then fall asleep on his couch.

Maybe he would order a pizza.

As he pushed the door to his office open he noticed all his lights were on. That in itself wouldn’t have alarmed him, but the student sitting on his desk was enough to alarm him.

“Rachel?” he asked, dumbfounded. School ended an hour ago, all the students should be long gone.
His office was a small thing. Metal industrial bookshelves lined the wall opposite to a small dingy window. His desk was a particle board painted to look like wood, and it sat in the middle of the room.

The same desk that his student was currently sitting on.

“I had a question.” She said softly, a soft pink blush creeping up her cheeks.

Rachel was one of his senior students. She was an average student, probably could have been one of his better ones had she actually tried, but she usually sat in the back looking out the window at the football practice. If George were to admit it to himself, which he would never, he could admit that she was an attractive student. Her red hair was striking, vibrant and eye catching. But her hair was second to those eyes—bright green, wide, and open. They accentuated her angular features and dark freckles across her cheek bones.

“Oh, well, you could have emailed me. You didn’t have to wait for me.” He responded, adjusting the papers he was holding. “You’re in the uh…” he glanced down at the class roster he had attached to the clipboard he used. “Senior’s American History, right?”

She nodded, swinging her legs and letting her heels bang against the desk.

Rachel was wearing the summer school uniform. The white button down was tucked into the blue plaid skirt, and the knee-high white socks were tucked into a black pair of Sperry’s. Like most of the older girls, Rachel rolled the waistband of the skirt until the hem of the skirt rode well above the required dress code standard of at the knees. Her creamy skin was a stark contrast to the dark blue of the skirt and he found his eyes transfixed—like blinking lights on an ambulance. He couldn’t look away from her slim thighs as she kicked her heels against the desk and rested her palms on the top of the desk.

“How can I help? Is this about the reading? Chapter 9 and 10 really do need to be read together, I know it’s a lot but it will make more sense in one long session.”

Rachel giggled a little and shook her head. “No, that’s not it Mr. Tanner!” she sat up and her giggles subsided until a dark look came over her.

“I turned eighteen last week.” She said seriously.

“Oh…uh…Happy Birthday then.” He said, sensing a shifting in the mood.

The small window let the fading evening light filter into his office, dust motes dancing in the beams reflected off the glass. A harsh light illuminated her face and made her green eyes sparkle with an unspoken wickedness.
Rachel reached up and with a remarkable speed she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt. The fabric slid apart and a flash of color from her bra could be seen. Her cleavage was deep and eye catching.

“Rachel that’s…”

She shook her head. “I’m eighteen now, Mr. Tanner. And I’m tired of fucking little boys. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me but…now I want you.”

George was speechless. He was a thirty-seven-year-old man. He drank more beer than he probably should, didn’t hit the gym, and his mousy brown hair was tousled and shaggy. George had worn glasses since he was a kid, and they rested on the tip of his aquiline nose.

“This isn’t appropriate, Rachel. Please fix your blouse and go home.”

She didn’t move. Instead she laughed softly. “That’s what your mouth says, but your eyes haven’t left my tits.”
She was right. And George hated it. He wanted to be a good man. A good teacher.

But Rachel was young. And attractive. And nothing had touched his penis in a year, save his own hand or the fabric of his boxers. Rachel was willing, too. She wanted him.

He was aroused.

Ashamed, and aroused.

Rachel sensed his indecision. Like the predator she so clearly was, she slipped off the desk and stalked towards him. Her hand popped another few buttons and her ample breasts pushed the fabric wide.

She was wearing a deep emerald green colored bra, it was made of some sort of shiny material that reminded him of satin. It was deeply contrasted against the pale, creamy color of her breasts. The tops of her breasts were perky and rounded, dancing slightly as she walked. Rachel’s nipples were hard and poking through the fabric. Beneath her bra he could see that her freckles trickled down her body, dusting across her toned stomach.

She stepped up to him, a full six inches shorter and he could smell her perfume. Reaching behind him she clicked the lock on the door, and he felt every ounce of will power he had screaming in pain.

Rachel arched her back and pressed her breasts against his chest. “The carpets match the drapes.”

It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. It shouldn’t have been sexy.

But George’s brain had stopped processing things two buttons ago.

“If you don’t believe me…” she said, turning to walk back to the desk. She planted her hands palms down on the top and bent over. The skirt slipped up her thighs and she waggled her ass.

“You could always check for yourself.”

He was done. He was going to hell in a handbasket. He was going to be fired and become homeless. Have to move back in with his parents. Everyone would know what he did. He might even go to prison.

But that’s what his upstairs brain was saying, and he had stopped caring what he had to say a long time ago.
With speed he didn’t know he possessed he dropped the papers he had been carrying and moved to her. She gasped slightly when his hand slipped against her back. The fabric of her shirt was starched, and far too much between him and her skin. Reading his mind she yanked the shirt out from the skirt and he could finally slide his hand up her back.

Rachel’s skin was warm and tight, flawless under his fingertips. Her erection pressed against her and he could feel the heat from her body there too. George flipped her skirt up and finally got a look at that perfect ass.
The emerald bra had a friend. Her panties matched, settling on the rounded globes of her pert ass like it was a second skin. He groaned and found his hands kneading those tight cheeks.

Rachel laughed and looked back at him over her shoulder. The smile slipped off her face when one of his fingers slipped under the panties and felt the wet heat there. She gasped, the color flushing on her cheeks in an attractive pink.

“Turn around.” He commanded, with much more force than he expected. He felt the shiver roll down her back as she turned. George picked her up and set her on the desk, pushed her knees apart.

“Take your shirt off.”

Her hands flew to the shirt and she undid the last of the buttons, letting it fall to the desk. He couldn’t wait. George shoved the bra up and felt his cock tighten as her breasts fell out. Rosebud pink nipples were hard, sitting atop her perfect breasts like candles on top of a birthday cake.

His hands found those mounds and they fit perfectly; the firm flesh slipped between his fingers. The hardened nipples poking against his palms. Rachel gasped and looked down at his hands against her.

“Has anyone ever played with your tits?”

She shook her head.

He hmm’d and he found the pink nipple and pulled it once, hard. She gasped and nearly came off the desk. He twisted the flesh between his fingers and watched her writhe on the desk. Her confidence seemed to ebb away now, and she fell into a demure submissive under his hands. Her muscles were tight and constricting as he pulled at her sensitive buds.

“Has anyone ever eaten you out before, Rachel?”

She shook her head. “No? Do you want me too?”

She nodded, swallowing as she looked up at him. Her eyes were wide.

He dropped down to his knees and flipped her skirt up over her legs and pulled her panties down until the rested around her right ankle, dangling there like an elusive lure.

Rachel was already wet. He could see and smell her arousal from that soft pussy. Her bush was a little long, not quite trimmed or waxed like some women.

The carpets did, in fact, match the drapes.

George tried to restrain himself, but he could only go so slow. His nose buried into her mound and his tongue licked up and down her slit. She tasted divine. Wet, warm, and that tangy taste of woman that was similar and unique to every woman.

Rachel’s thighs tightened around him, her body jumping from his attentions. Her hands clasped around the edge of the wooden desk, holding tight until the edges dug into her palms.

George started slow. Mapping her pussy with his tongue. Flattening his tongue wide he licked strips up the wetness, his tongue finding all the hidden nooks and crannies that were so important. Slipping his tongue into that special tunnel, she cried out and almost laughed. George looked up and saw a pink flush creeping up her face and coloring up to her ears.

George leaned back. “What do you feel Rachel?” he asked, though his tone suggested he needed to know.

“It’s…wet.” She said softly, out of breath. “I like when you enter me with it.”

George did it again, letting his tongue curl and lap at the ragged ceiling of her sex. “Like that?”

Rachel’s thighs tightened again and a small yelp passed her bitten lips. “Yes.”

With the point of his tongue her traced up the slit until he found that little hooded bud. That sensitive bundle of nerves. With pressure he pushed onto it, rolling the nub under his tongue.

Rachel squeaked and her back arched, a small moan slipping past her lips. George pushed on. He wanted to hear her, hear her come and watch her come undone. His tongue moved like a snake, circling and sliding over that nub. Eventually his finger joined, sliding up into her vagina and hooking up to press against that elusive spot.

It didn’t take Rachel long after that. Her legs began to shake, and she fell back on the desk. Ragged breaths and small yelps were torn from her as her stomach muscles contracted.

With a finally little moan, she came up off the desk and George felt the walls of her pussy tighten around his tongue and a flood of warm juices slipped along his tongue.

As he stood back up he noted Rachel’s thighs were slicked with sweat and a combination of his spit and her cum coating her thighs. Rachel was panting, those bouncy breasts heaving with every breath. Her eyes were closed as she lay boneless atop his desk.

At that moment George knew this would not be their last meeting. Hell be damned, he would have Rachel as many times as he wanted. He leaned over her wrecked body and slid his hand into her hair, wrapping the thick strands around his fist and tightening until her eyes snapped open. He pressed a rough kiss against her lips.

“Thank me, Rachel.”

Rachel glanced up at his and she licked her dry lips. “Thank you Mr. Tanner.”

His fist jerked a little and she yelped. “Be specific Rachel.”

“Thank…thank you for letting me cum, Mr. Tanner.”

He softened his grip and bent to kiss her again, roughly taking her lip into his mouth. He gently sucked on it and let his free hand slide down to press against her overly sensitive nub. She yelped and her thighs tightened around his hand.

“This is mine, Rachel. From now on. You are mine.”

Rachel nodded, her lips parted and eyes dark with wanton want. George slipped his finger past her lips.

“Suck,” he ordered her.

Greedily she began to suckle on his finger.

“Good, practice that.”

—-

My commissions are now open again! Hit me up if you have a story you want told or to read more of George and Rachel’s adventures.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/rvl368/the_teachers_favorite