“Oh, fuck me,” I said.
“Yeah, well, Jay, get used to it,” Enrique said, “You’re the lowest bitch on the totem pole, so now you’re going to help unload their van, and you’re going to be fucking nice about it. Put all their luggage by that tree.” He pointed up the hill at an enormous redwood, decking built around it, near the seasonal staff cabins. “The teachers get the nice rooms, the ones with a view.”
“What about Stefan?” I whined. Stefan was my supposed co-worker, except he was nowhere to be seen.
“Jay, Don’t worry about Stefan, just do what I told you,” Enrique sighed.
Enrique was the Facilities Manager, my new boss. Five summers I had spent working my way up to senior counselor, earning the respect of campers, becoming a leader of our team. But I wanted more. I’d finished university and realized that the thing I’d miss the most was being a counselor at summer camp. So I decided to join the permanent, year-round staff.
Now here I am on the Facilities team, back at the bottom of the pecking order, doing grunt chores. Enrique was at least ten years older than me, and getting lazy. But this was the first time I’d ever been at camp past summer’s end, and I had to learn how the rest of the year went. Starting with some middle school’s Science Camp.
The vans pulled around the bin to the parking area at the bottom of the hill, and a bunch of serious, kind-of dorky people got out. *Teachers,* I said to myself. Our camp director, Doctor Mike, walked down the hill, and him and Enrique greeted them.
Everyone important was shaking hands and making introductions but I just went around to the back of the vans and started grabbing luggage. I wanted to make as few trips as possible, so I grabbed a lot of bags at once.
I wasn’t trying to get attention, but I heard someone say, “Wow, we could use some muscles like that back on campus.”
Another female voice answered, “He could show the gym teachers a thing or two, that’s for sure.”
The first voice said back, “He could show me a thing or two, too!” Followed by giggling.
I blushed, too embarrassed to even look and see who said it. Was I really being ogled? And by teachers? I wasn’t even smooth with girls my own age, I had no idea what to make of older women talking about me this way. I decided the best thing to do was avoid eye contact and finish as quick as I could.
##
The kids showed up about an hour later, several school buses full, and Doctor Mike introduced them to their week, gave them the tour, and sent them to their cabins to unpack. All that done, it was time for dinner, our visitors’ first meal at our camp.
Enrique told me and Stefan that all us staff had to sit with the teachers, get to know them. So there I was, sitting at the teachers’ table, suddenly a peer of instructors. I had only graduated college a few months ago and still felt very much like a student. How was I supposed to talk to teachers? I sat there quietly and let everyone else do the talking.
Stefan, on the other hand, wouldn’t shut up.
The teachers only wanted to gossip about other teachers. “Did you hear what Gerald did to his third period English?” “Ms. Muriel hasn’t been to a department meeting in months, I don’t know how she keeps getting her contract renewed.” “Mr. Roberts has called in sick three times in the last month, and he never leaves a lesson plan.”
There was no possible way that Stefan, whose job was to clean toilets in the forest, had anything to contribute to this, but he wouldn’t stop trying, twisting camp stories around in an attempt to join the conversation.
The teachers weren’t having it, and I was embarrassed to be there. I was wondering how long the rules of etiquette required me to stay at the table when I felt someone’s leg brush mine under the table. We were all sitting on long benches, so I tried scooting my legs back to get out of people’s way, but I couldn’t get much farther back.
I felt someone’s foot again brush my leg, almost caressing my knee. What the fuck? I looked across the table, neither teacher was paying me any attention. One was a middle-aged man, bald with thick glasses, the other a stern looking woman in possession of an air of authority, platinum blonde hair pulled back into a tight pony tail. Both had been ignoring me the entire dinner, and were turned in opposite directions to the conversations happening on either side of me.
The foot fondling me slid up past my knees, and I realized that the man was participating in his conversation, while the woman was not. The foot pushed between my legs, coming to a rest against my crotch, and the woman’s mouth showed the barest hint of a grin. *Holy shit, I’m being groped by this teacher!* She was cute enough, I guess, but she had to be at least 15 years older than me.
I looked down to see toes wrapped in a brown stocking, the same color brown as the tight sweater the woman was wearing. The toes began kneading my jeans, and I sat up bolt straight as I felt my dick harden.
I took a sip of water to hide my blush.
*This teacher, shit, did she tell me her name?* I looked, saw a wedding ring on her finger, huge diamond on top. *What the fuck, man? Could this be an accident?*
Her toes were rubbing, through my pants, directly against my hard-on. This was no accident.
After a minute, the foot pulled away, and the teacher stood up from the table, yawned. She announced to her fellow teachers, “I’m going to call it a night. See you all in the morning.” She glanced at me, we made eye contact. She gave a small smile, then took off.
I watched her walk away, eyeing her brown stalkings, feet now in slip-on flats. I followed her legs up to a form-fitting knee-length pencil skirt, cinched tight around her hips to a thin waist.
Life had not prepared me for this situation. Was she just goofing around? Or does she actually want to fuck? If I wanted to, how would I even make the next move here?
I had no idea how to answer any of these questions, so I just sat there, not leaving until my boner was no longer tenting my pants.
##
The next day, the kids did their activities, the teachers followed them around. I did my tasks, but I was distracted. The foot thing the last night was weird, but hot.
Enrique had me working on cleaning the pool equipment. Someone years ago had made a small dam in our camp’s main creek, creating a swimming hole. Even when it was too cold and nobody was swimming, all the life preservers and kickboards and pool toys and stuff still had to be kept clean. Or so Enrique said. I half suspected this was busywork. But I was his bitch, so I did as he said.
“Hey, can you help me?” someone was shouting.
I looked, it was the teacher from last night. She was standing on the other side of the pool, in a similar outfit as yesterday, pointing at the water.
“I dropped my towel in, can you get it?” she yelled across.
*How the fuck…* the pool had to be at least 100 feet across. How did she get her towel halfway out there?
I saw that the water’s flow would carry the towel to the dam’s spillway in a few minutes. Camp rules don’t allow people on the dam’s accessway — it’s just a narrow metal gangway running across the top. If you fell off one way, you’d land in the pool, but if you fell the other you’d drop down the height of the dam — about six feet — and land on river boulders and rushing water.
But now that I was on the facilities staff, I didn’t have to follow that rule.
I grabbed a pole with a hook on the end and headed out, across the dam, to where the towel was approaching. I looked up and saw the teacher watching me, studying my rescue maneuver as if she was appraising me.
I leaned out with the hook to grab the towel. Up close, the roar of the water going through the spillway was drowning out all other sounds. So I didn’t hear the wasp approach until it landed on my nose.
Don’t think less of me, but wasps are not my favorite thing. It didn’t even sting me, I just freaked out. I lost my footing, and fell, like an idiot, like for the exact reason we’re not allowed on the accessway. Luckily, I fell towards the pool.
As I sunk into the water, the strong currents of the spillway pulled me towards the dam, but I wasn’t worried. Maybe someone shorter would be, but I’m tall, tall enough to push myself off the bottom. I was able to reach up and grab the accessway. I even managed to nab the towel.
I pulled myself back up onto the metal walkway, and lay there panting for a minute before getting up. The teacher, she was still standing where I’d last seen her, still watching me, now with a disapproving look, as if I’d disappointed her by falling in.
*Whatever, I’m done with this game.* I carefully made my way across the rest of the dam, and over to the teacher. Soaked, I handed her the wet towel.
“Here you are, ma’am,” I said coolly.
“This one is dirty now,” she said, holding it out, handing it back to me. “I’ll need some new towels in my cabin. And I don’t have much time, you were so slow coming across the pool.”
I bit my tongue, didn’t say what I felt. Instead, I said, “Sure thing, ma’am,” and I headed off to the laundry.
That voice of authority that teachers have still carried a lot of weight with me. And if dealing with demanding visitors is part of the job, then so be it. But what the fuck was with the footsie?
Still soaking wet, I picked up new towels for her (and one for myself) and brought them to her cabin, as instructed.
I used my master key to go in her room, and set the new towels down on her bed. I glanced around, she’d barely unpacked anything, the only real sign she’d been there was the open suitcase on the dresser. Several pairs of lacy underwear were laying on top of her clothes. Who brings that to camp? *Whatever,* I thought, and turned to head out.
I froze. She was standing in the doorway, blocking my exit. “You regularly go snooping through women’s luggage?” she said, walking in, closing the door behind her.
I didn’t say anything, I was annoyed, but also embarrassed.
She gave me a disappointed shake of the head. “Sit down,” she pointed at the desk chair. I sat.
“You’re filthy,” she said, “take your shirt off before you make more of a mess.” I looked at her. She wanted me to strip? Holy shit.
I hesitated and took the moment to check her out. She had on a tight blue button-down shirt, with another tight knee skirt, this one black and pleated, and dark, semi-translucent pantyhose. A professional outfit, but one that also showed off her figure. I bet the boys looked forward to her class.
*Ok, let’s do this.* “Yes, teacher,” I said. I took off my wet shirt, tried to fold it up neatly. She gave me another disappointed look, took it from me, tossed it into the bathroom.
She slowly shook her head, her blonde pony tail swinging back and forth. “Do you even know your teacher’s name?”
I blushed, shook my head.
“You can call me Mrs. Mallory. And what might your name be?”
“My name is Jay, Mrs. Mallory.”
“Well Jay,” she said, giving my bare chest a hungry look, “I have to say, I was not happy with your performance earlier. Do you think you’ll now be able to rise to the occasion?”
“Yes, Mrs. Mallory.”
“Then why do you still have on those filthy wet pants?”
I stood up and took my pants off.
“Shorts, too.”
I dropped my underwear to the ground, and stood there bare ass naked as Mrs. Mallory’s eyes looked me up and down greedily. Her eyes lingered on my crotch, taking in my thick cock. I saw her hips grind subtly, probably she didn’t even realize she was doing it.
“Put a towel on the chair and sit back down.”
I did as she said, not wanting to displease her.
“You’re a good boy, following my instructions. If you stay a good boy, you might be rewarded.” She started unbuttoning her shirt from the top, a tight lace bra slowly getting revealed. Her tits were pressed tight against her chest by the taut material, and were far larger than I had realized.
“Let’s see how you do at this next assignment.”
Mrs. Mallory came up close to me, pulled the front hem of her skirt up to her waist. I ran my fingers up her pantyhose, around her knees, to their end high on her thighs. Her pussy was bare, and I swept my fingers in circles, caressing her thigh, tantalizing her crotch.
“I don’t use underwear,” she said, even though I didn’t ask. She lifted up one leg, resting her foot high on the desk, spreading her pussy wide. She placed her other hand on the back of my head and pushed my face into her crotch.
“Lick it,” she instructed. And lick it I did. I teased my tongue lightly across her pussy lips, darted it downwards, and then focused on her swelling clit.
She pushed me into her more forcefully, humping against my face, grinding her pussy on my mouth. “You’re getting better at following instructions,” she said, then moaned, “I bet you want to be the teacher’s pet.”
“Yeth, Mrth Maworee,” I said, tongue busy licking pussy.
“You want to fuck your teacher, don’t you? You want to stay after class and ram your fat cock into her. You want to push her down on her desk and fill her with your fresh, teenage cum.” I think I must have been acting out some fantasy of hers, but that was fine by me.
“Your teacher is fucking your face, you’re going to let her get away with that? Stick your finger in your teacher’s ass, assert yourself, don’t let her use you.” Mrs. Mallory’s thrusts were becoming more frantic, more forceful.
I slid my hands up the backs of her legs, grabbed her ass. I squeezed, massaging her muscular cheeks, pushing her crotch onto my face. I slid a finger up her ass, began pushing it in and out. She moaned, and I slid in a second finger, then a third.
Pumping her ass with my hand, stimulating her pussy with my tongue, I felt her tense up. She groaned, I felt her ass tighten around my fingers, clit swell up. She came hard, knees going weak, nearly collapsing on me.
I pushed her off of me and stood up. I pulled open her shirt the rest of the way, buttons popping, fabric tearing. I slid my hands under her bra, pinched her nipples.
“I always knew you were a slut, Mrs. Mallory,” I said, “You want to show your tits to your class, have me suck your nipples.” I pinched her nipples again, and she shuddered. “You want me to jack off thinking about you, wondering what it’s like to fuck the teacher.”
“Yes,” she said faintly.
I paused a moment, a flash of clarity, *I’m really doing this,* then said, “You want to know what it’s like to be fucked by your student.” I pushed her down, bending her over the desk, watching her blonde pony tail flop down.
“Yes!” she said again in a thin voice.
I leaned over her, whispered in her ear, “Well now you’re going to find out, Mrs. Mallory.”
I stood back up, pulled her skirt up to her waist, exposing her round, delicious ass, and guided my cock into her pussy. I began driving my erection into her for all that it was worth. I grabbed her hips, pulling her onto my dick.
“You’re a fucking whore, you can’t stop thinking about your student’s thick cock. I’m going to ride you deep, bitch, your pussy is my fucktoy.”
I heard hear moan, “Fucckkkk…” as she came again, soaking my cock in her pussy juice.
“You are such a slut, I just touch you and you cum,” I said. I pulled my dick out, eyed her ass, remembered how she begged me to finger it. My hands grabbed her thin waist, pushed it down into the desk, making her arch her back, presenting her asshole to me.
“I took your pussy, now I’m going to take your sweet teacher ass. I’m going to push all of my long, hard cock into you, and you’re going to beg for my cum, do you hear me Mrs. Mallory?”
“Ye… yes,” she said, weakly.
“What was that?” I demanded.
“Fuck my ass!” she whimpered, “Give me your cum! I’m your whore.” She reached back, spread her ass cheeks, her quivering asshole inches from the tip of my cock.
I had never actually fucked an ass before, but I’d jacked off to the idea plenty. *Here goes nothing.* I pushed the tip of my cock into her ass. It felt different than her pussy, tighter, less wet.
“Fuck me deeper,” she begged.
I obliged, slowly pushing my cock all the way in, Mrs. Mallory gasping three different times. Her pussy had felt good, but her ass was way tighter, my cock was in heaven. I slid back out, spit on her asshole, and pushed back in.
She shuddered beneath me as I found a rhythm. I saw her hand slide down between her legs, start fingering herself in time with my thrusts. “You’re going to cum again, while your student fucks your ass? You’re such a slut.”
Truthfully, I couldn’t last long with my cock in her ass. It was too tight for me to hold out much longer, and I said, “I’m going to empty my balls in you.”
She slid her hand farther back, leaving her pussy to grab and tug on my balls. “Give me all your cum. Fill me with it.”
“Squeeze my balls,” I said, and she did. I pushed my cock into her hard, one last shove, all the way to the hilt. I felt her start to orgasm again, heard her moan deep, for a third time.
I came.
I felt my cock spray into her ass. “You’re such a fucking whore,” I said. My cock spurted again, and then again.
Only once I knew I was done, and felt my cock start to go limp, did I pull out. I sat back down on the chair, enjoying the afterglow, and used the towel to clean myself up. I tossed Mrs. Mallory another for her to do the same.
##
“Where the fuck were you?” Stefan asked, “I had to do your fucking job down at the pool.”
I grinned. “Hey man, one of the teachers needed help with something.”
“Something what, what’s ‘something’?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “You know, just, ‘something’.”
Enrique glanced over his shoulder at us. “I know what something. You were taking your time dropping off those towels.” He was grinning right at me.
I don’t know how he knew, but camp was too small for secrets to last long, I wasn’t surprised.
Stefan looked back and forth between us. “Man, I don’t know what the fuck,” he said, “But you owe me.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I just sat back and smiled.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/g4gmw7/giving_the_teacher_what_she_wants_fm_seduced_by
Hot story
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