Ellie Wants to Talk

Lunch break and you’re just packing up from the previous lesson when you feel someone watching you. It’s Ellie. She’s back. She looks embarrassed. She looks eager. She’s chewing her lips; her large brown eyes locked on you.

“Ellie, do you want something?”

Ellie nods. When you don’t do anything else she speaks. “Can we speak in your office?”

“Of course.” You lead her to your office, show her chair and shut the door. For a moment you consider locking it. No. You have to think this is innocent. Your dick is already stirring.

Return to your desk. Sit opposite her. Wait for her to speak.

It takes a while. The tension between you is palpable. Her brown eyes are wide and filled with desire. “I’m on the pill,” she finally declares. Blood immediately rushes to your cock. “You said, that if I’m on birth control, you’d fuck me again. I’m on the pill.”

All you want to do is leap over the desk, rip off her knickers and bury yourself inside her, take every ounce of pleasure from her body. No, no, not yet. You gave her that challenge because you thought it would be beyond her. Yet she’s done it. Or has she? You need proof. Because as soon as you start on this path there’s no way you’re stopping. As soon as you pull your dick out events won’t finish until you’ve shot your load inside her.

“I do believe I said you need to prove you’re on the pill.”

She nods. Her bag is in her lap. She opens it, delves deep. The tension grows as she fumbles inside. He pulls out a small box. The labelling tells you it’s contraceptives. She opens it and withdraws a blister pack, with the same labelling. Two of the blisters popped and empty. That’s all the evidence you need.

It’s a strain to walk to the door and lock it. Then you’re back, looming over her, drawing her towards you, your lips reaching down to kiss her lips. Your arms wrap around her. Her arms wrap around you.

“You want me to fuck you?” She nods. “Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me, sir. I want you.”

“Get it out.”

She knows what you mean. Her fingers are fumbling at your belt, at your trousers. Inexperience means by the time she’s got it out your cock is already hard.

“Kiss it.” She kisses it. “Lick it.” She runs her rough togue over it, along its entire length, wetting it. “Stroke it.” Her touch is light, tickling the protruding veins, soft and eager and enervating. “Take off your knickers.” She gets rid of them in one smooth motion. You lift her up and place her on your desk. You raise her skirt so that you have free access to the slit before you. You kneel before her and breathe in the scent of her arousal. You can already see her wetness. Just coming here got her excited. Now she’s here and she’s getting what she has spent all week dreaming about. And her desire is clear in her wide brown eyes, and her short, excited breaths and in the pinkness of her pussy lips.

“I’m surprised you’re shaved,” you tell her as you run one finger through her folds, parting them to show the glistening pinkness beneath.

“You like it?” She’s unsure, scared you’re going to say no.

“I love it. It’s just I didn’t expect it of you.”

“My sisters told me I should do it. They showed me how, and I liked it, so I kept it up.”

“I’ll have to thank your sisters.” Then you lean in and kiss the folds. The first is tender. The second more probing, running between the flesh to lap at the sweetness held within. She shudders and moans at each touch. You lap for several minutes, until you know she’s soaked.

You stand and step out of your trousers, out of your boxers. You lift her legs, so they stretch behind her, her pussy open and ready for you. With one hand holding her ankles you step forward so your shaft can rub her sodden slit. You run it through her folds, her dampness transferring to your jutting monster. Once damp you position it at the entrance to her sex. It’s taken all your self-control not to claim her already. Your mind is awash with the memory of her tightness, of her wetness, of her heat, and you can feel all three as you played a second time.

“You ready?” you ask her, and her nods are frantic and filled with desperation. She’s not just ready. She needs this. She’s been yearning for this since Monday, almost as much as you’ve been needing this since Monday. You push yourself in.

If anything, it’s hotter and wetter than it was on Monday. It’s silkier and smoother than you remember. It’s just as tight. It’s a velvet vice, heated to boiling and soaked with oily juices. It resists, as if the hole was not built for anything as big as the monster you have. But you know better. She knows better. The hole parts. You enter. And all the resistance it gives just adds to the pleasure. There’s no hymen this time to stymie your ****. Just the natural tightness of a woman not used to being fucked. But the deeper you go, the more certain you are, she’ll get used to it. For there’s no way, now that you’ve claimed this a second time, that you’re not claiming this again and again and again. It’s heaven. It’s bliss. Her pussy resists but it will comply. The head of your cock is in. The shaft slips deeper. This time you get a third of it in before the pressure becomes too much. You start to withdraw. You start to rock back and forth.

And Ellie’s moans of pleasure are a wonder to hear. Her mouth is wide open. Her eyes are wide open. And out of both comes only joy. When you thrust in, her moans rise in volume and pitch. When you withdraw, they deepen and stutter as she breathes. She grips the side of the desk, clinging to it as if it’s keeping her afloat. Her back against it. Her legs in the air. Her feet on your shoulders.

Your hands reach down and unbutton her blouse. You push the cloth apart to reveal her bra. You fumble with that, lifting it over her breasts to release them. Released you can grasp them. They are small and wonderful and tipped with hard nipples and flushed with her desire. Time has no meaning when you’re inside her. All you can feel is her pussy wrapped around the head of your cock. The rest of your shaft **** to join it in her. Yet the walls resist. Each thrust barely gets you deeper. Each withdrawal pulls the walls out with it.

“God you’re tight,” you exclaim.

“No, no, your too big. I want it all, but it won’t go.”

“It will, give it time. Give me time. I’m going to stretch you until you can take it all.”

“Please, sir. Yes, sir. I want it all. Give it all to me.”

“You’ll get it. You’re teacher’s cocksleeve. That’s what you are. Your body was made to take my cock. And you’ll take it. You’ll take it all.”

And with that you thrust harder. More of your length slides into her velvet vice. That sets her off. The shrieks birthed by her orgasm fill the small room. Only then do you realise you’re still in school. Can anyone hear? If they hear they can’t be mistaken in what ‘s happening. The whole wrongness of the scene is overruled by the rightness of the feeling. How can this be wrong when it feels so right. The spasming muscles of her walls is too much. The tightness of her grip is too much. The scent of her arousal, the depth of the desire, they’re all too much. You’re never withdrawing from this. You can’t.

You cum. Wave after wave of sperm into her tight hole. Pumping, pumping, pumping. More than you’ve ever pumped before. And she greets each wave with a grunt of utter joy. The two of you frozen, joined at the hip, as you should be, as you want to always be. Until the last wave has left and your cock begins to deflate. You finally pull out, not because you want to, but because you have to. Behind it comes a wave of white spunk, marking her pussy as yours, declaring what you’ve done.

Ellie’s face is in awe. You feel you must look the same way. So sudden. So wonderful. So right.

You lean down and kiss her. She returns it just as passionately.

“You feel better now?”

She nods. “That was even better than last time. That’s… that’s the best experience I’ve ever had. Can we do it again?”

You chuckle. “Of course we’re doing it again. You’re Teacher’s Cocksleeve. You’re here to take my cock. How does that sound?”

“Like heaven.”

You smile and can’t help but kiss her again. “Get dressed.” You don’t. Instead you pick up your phone and start putting in her details. Once you’ve created an entry for her you pass the phone to her and tell her to put in her number. Once she’s done that you send a message. When her phone beeps she goes to see what you sent.

“Tuesday 4pm. What’s this address?”

“That is my address. I want to see you Tuesday 4pm there. You can make it?” She nods. “Good. And we’ll discuss tutoring for you.” Her eyes glitter at the prospect.

You both finish dressing. Once dressed you unlock the door and let her out. The classroom, the whole floor sounds deserted.