3:55 Tuesday afternoon.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click.
My the sound of my black heels on the marble of Headmistress Fox’s office echoed off of the walls as I paced to the front of her desk. She lounged in her chair in a black pinstriped suit coat, a matching black skirt over her waist. She twirled a lock of her black hair absentmindedly as she spoke on her cell phone.
“Mm hmm.. Yes I understand Mrs. Baker, but we ensure all of our Sweethearts upon graduation.. Yes I am aware of that.. I’m looking at her transcripts right now, and she had outstanding grades in all of her classes.. Yes including Restraints.. Well Mrs. Baker I do apologize, but our Sweethearts are proven year after year to be exceptional. I’d suggest either re-evaluating your position, or sending her back to us and we can find her another placement agency.. Mm hmm.. Okay. Thank you.”
She set the phone down and let out a long, exasperated sigh. Her black hair aside from the now curled lock on her finger was up in a bun, and I watched her reach up to let it fall over her shoulders, shaking it free by tossing her head back and forth. She was possibly the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, futa or not. Her slender fingers collected the small group of papers in her hand, placing them in a manilla folder, reaching behind her and setting it on top of the filing cabinet behind the desk.
“Good afternoon Ms. Grey,” she said with a smile, turning back to face me, showing a perfect set of pearly white teeth.
“Good afternoon Headmistress,” I replied.
“I had a drink with Miss Josephs over the weekend, and your remediation lessons came up. She thought that you may benefit from some focus from me on her class. Now, I’ve only seen your grades, and I haven’t directly observed you, so I’ll ask: would you agree that you could benefit from some tutoring in this subject?”
My cheeks flushed pink as I averted my eyes, placing them on my skirt. I fiddled with the hem of the plaid that laid over my nylon stockings before answering. I’d always had a crush on Miss Josephs, ever since my admission to the Academy. She had gorgeous blonde hair like mine, and a pair of jade green eyes that made your mind melt. Which would lead one to believe that I would have done everything I could to excel in her class. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case.
“Yes Headmistress.”
She stood from her chair, stepping around the corner of her desk to stand in front of me. She leaned back against the edge of the mahogany, her long legs crossed casually in front of me. From this angle she looked even more powerful in her pinstriped getup.
“I think so too. Ms. Grey upon reviewing your class grades it seems like you barely skirted by throughout the semester, making hardly a passing grade on each assignment and test, until the final exam, where you scored top of the class. Can you explain that to me?”
No matter what I did, I couldn’t get my eyes to look up and meet hers. It felt like there was a weight on the back of my head that kept my gaze aimed at anything lower than desk height. I could see every thread in her skirt, each tiny freckle near her ankles, the image of my own toned legs mirrored in her shiny black heels. I knew if I didn’t answer she’d ask again, and if it happened too many times she’d lose her temper. I’d heard too many stories about futas who had lost their tempers or gotten carried away with a girl. My voice quivered, but I spoke.
“Headmistress.. the exams and assignments in Oral Affection were done on.. objects. Sometimes it was oversized dildos, and other times we were asked to perform fellatio on mannequins..,” I winced slightly, remembering the awkwardness of those lessons. “And, well.. they were.. cold. Inanimate. Lifeless. I felt like it was just acting, or like it was a chore, a task.. With all due respect Headmistress, it didn’t feel much like affection.”
My voice trailed off as I looked out the window for a moment, watching the amber and ruby fall leaves drifting by in the wind. The campus truly was beautiful in the fall, that magical time where the leaves began to change and you noticed the crisp coolness of the morning.
“Continue,” I heard her say.
“Yes Headmistress. So the whole year I felt.. forced.. to perform these acts on mannequins and such, and we were shown new techniques and styles and things that we were supposed to do as ‘experienced’ Sweethearts. And it felt ordered and lifeless and dull. But then.. at the end of the year, for the final exam.. instead of doing it on the mannequins and dildos we did it on..”
“Miss Josephs,” she finished, taking a finger under my chin and pulling my face up, my eyes finally meeting hers. There was a softness, a comfort in the cobalt of her irises.
“Yes Headmistress.”
“Khloe you aren’t the first girl we’ve had who’s experienced some.. difficulty in performing when there’s no one on the other side. And that says a lot about you, a lot of good things. It means that you truly love the spirit of being a Sweetheart: giving. We could use more girls like you.”
I struggled to hold back tears as I smiled. Up until this point in my life I’d never received much positive reinforcement, whether it be compliments or otherwise. And to hear them from this gorgeous, powerful woman in front of me made them that much more special.
“That being said I do still need to evaluate your progress. And I’m happy to provide feedback. Would you be okay with doing that Ms. Grey? I know you’re experiencing a lot right now, so we can always postpone the lesson.”
Unbeknownst to me throughout this dialogue was the growing bulge in her skirt, the same one that had ached for me while I was splayed across her lap on Friday afternoon. My eyes darted from her face back to her skirt, and back and forth again. I felt my mouth begin to salivate as I imagined what lie behind that curtain of polyester. I could almost feel its warmth, taste it, feel its pulse. I was overcome by desire. By passion. Need.
I slid out of the chair to my knees, my skin hitting the cold marble floor.
“No Headmistress, I’d like to begin the lesson now if that’s acceptable.”
She looked down at me and chuckled.
“Of course, Ms. Grey.”
The world moved in slow motion as her long fingers took the hem of her skirt, folding it up to her waist. With a free hand she reached inside the small triangle of fabric that could hardly be described as a pair of panties, fishing her long cock from its cage. My mouth opened in awe as it hung free in front of me, standing at half mast just inches from my nose. With each of her heartbeats the tip jumped just slightly, weighed down by its unbelievable size. A long vein ran from hilt to tip on the dorsal side. It was cut, and as her own excitement grew, however measured or controlled it was, the long shaft began to curve upwards.
My tiny hand reached out to grab it, and when my palm made contact with her warm skin, it felt like electricity began to run through my veins. I stroked it gently three or four times, feeling the weight in my hand, before sticking my tongue out softly to lick the tip. I quickly and eagerly set to work coating every inch in saliva, licking up and down its entire length, back and forth and back again. I felt her hips lean back, adjusting herself on the edge of the desk, and as I swirled my tongue around the tip of her enormous cock I heard her let out a gentle sigh of relief.
My mind ran. She needed this. She needed me. Who knows how long it had been since the balls at the end of this monster had been drained? I felt wanted, desired, sexy. Suddenly nothing in the world mattered except providing her release.
“Mmph,” I moaned softly as I took the head in between my ruby red lips, tucking my cheeks in tightly to feel her. I could taste her precum on my tongue, the salty sweet aphrodisiac that warped the brains of girls. My nipples stiffened, my heart skipped a beat, and my soft little flower grew moist inside my skirt. I slid my lips further down her shaft, until I felt her cock probe my soft palate, begging for entry into my throat. There was still a laughable length left before I’d reached the end of her, but all the same I could feel her excitement grow.
“There’s a good girl,” I heard her murmur, pushing her hips forward no more than an inch, pressing herself just a bit deeper towards the back of my throat. Her desire was curbed, measured even, in comparison to the other futas I’d been with. She didn’t want to face fuck me and be done with it, getting off as quickly as she could and giving into her primal instincts. She wanted to savor this, enjoy every sensation and squeeze every bit of pleasure from this moment.
It drove me wild.
My head began to bob slowly, back and forth, my lips tightly suctioned to her warm member. Each time she reached the back of my throat I couldn’t stifle a soft gurgle, my mouth so watered that my own arousal was now audible. Up and down my mouth traveled on her shaft, each pass leaving a coat of saliva that glistened in the afternoon sun. Should anyone pass by the first floor window they would surely see me throating Headmistress Fox, which made the moment all the more thrilling.
My hands now joined the dance, though it took both of them to fully wrap around her cock. Back and forth my mouth and hands worked in tandem, twisting and stroking and sucking so loudly that the room began to echo with the most carnal of sounds. Her own sighs and gentle moans now grew louder, turning into low pitched groans and growls that mixed with my own whimpers, moans, and gasps. Her hand found the back of my head, spurring me on with non-verbal encouragement and cues.
Coming off to catch my breath, my hands continued stroking her while I looked up. She’d opened her blouse and was looking down at me, her large breasts hanging from her bare chest, a hand roughly squeezing one. Her nipples were long and stiff and I could see her rib cage with each deep breath she took. The muscles on the arm she propped herself up on the desk with were taught and rippled, the veins propped up on her skin.
“Don’t stop Khloe,” she ordered, gently coaxing me back onto her shaft with a hand on my cheek.
I set to work picking up the pace, my lips returning to her, taking her back deep inside my mouth, forming a tight seal. One small hand stroked her massive length, while a second found her inner thighs, running my nails along them softly, a technique that was awarded with a gentle whimper from above me. I took one of her massive testicles in my hand, massaging it gently as my head continued its rhythm. I massaged the second, and I felt both of them jump quickly in my hand. Once, then twice.
With lightning speed Headmistress Fox leaned down, ripping open my shirt and tearing my bra away from my chest. Her hips now worked more forcefully, pushing her mushroom-like head in and out of my mouth. Her moans grew louder and more earnest, her thighs flexed tightly.
She was close.
My head bobbed even faster now, meeting her thrusts even as she attempted to ram herself down my throat. I wanted it. I needed it. The stories of futas drowning girls that tried to swallow their massive loads had left my mind. My pussy was dripping onto the marble floor, my nipples painfully stiff and exposed. I was hungry, and my mind was blank.
“Fuck..!” I heard her whine, right before I felt her large member twitch.
The first rope hit the back of my throat, mixing with my own saliva and sliding down. The second and third landed on my tongue, sending a shockwave through my body as I tasted her sweet juices. It was like a dose of pheromones right into my veins, and my hands now worked her faster than ever to milk the rest of her pleasure from her shaft. Her cock began to jerk violently in my mouth, depositing more and more of her seed with each spasm. It filled my mouth, now dripping from my lips and down my chin. Again and again I felt her convulse, and though I began to run out of air, still I wanted more.
She gripped my hair with one hand, quickly pulling me off of her, as her free hand replaced mine and stroked her still quivering member. Her cum now flowed from my lips, running quickly down my chin and onto my chest. I looked up at her as she stroked herself, shooting string after string of hot, white satisfaction onto my face and breasts. I felt my hands rubbing it into my skin, running it over my hard nipples, licking it from my fingers. I was driven mad, like a dog cleaning its feeding bowl, like I’d never get enough.
With one last roar she finished, and with a thud fell back against her desk. Her breathing was labored and ragged, and I watched her attempts to catch it as I kneeled before her. I was covered in her cum, my skin glistening with its wet stickiness, still dripping down my chin. My skirt was soaked, as were my panties, though from a different source. My knees were in a puddle of our mutual rapture as I continued tasting her on my tongue, an unabashed smile on my face.
After a moment of rest, nothing but panting between us, she wrung the last drop from her long cock, setting it back in its place between her legs and fixing her skirt. She buttoned her blouse and motioned for me to stand with a soft grin.
“I have an extra Sweetheart uniform in the bathroom behind my desk here, Ms. Grey,” she murmured, pulling me close to her. I was afraid I’d get her gorgeous suit wet, as I was covered, but she seemed not to care. With a hand on my cheek she kissed me deeply, pushing her tongue into my mouth and whimpering softly, tasting herself. She took a half step back, her fingers softly stroking my cheek.
“I think it’s safe to say we can change your Oral Affection grade from ‘Acceptable’ to ‘Outstanding’,” she smiled. “I’ll leave you here to change, please lock the door behind you. Housekeeping can come in this evening and fix our.. mess,” she said with a giggle, glancing at the puddle of mixed pleasure on the floor. “Do you feel as if you’ve learned something this afternoon Ms. Grey?”
I bit my lip softly as I looked up at her, my mind still unable to process the events that just took place. My hair was wet, my chest still bare in front of her. My body ached for more of her touch, drawn to her raw power and sexuality.
“Yes Headmistress,” I murmured with a grin.
She walked past me, and as she went by deftly slipped a hand under my skirt, giving a playful slap to my left cheek.
“Good,” she said as her heels clicked on the marble floor. “4:30 on Friday Ms. Grey,” she called out over her shoulder, turning to me for a moment with a very serious face.
“And don’t be late.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dmhye2/heartwood_academy_earning_an_o_in_oral_affection