No Drinks for you

It’s only your 3rd week teaching at St Perpetua’s, but you’re really settling in. This week was momentous, but it was also feeling normal. What it really needs is a drink to end the week. You’re about to see if anyone else is up for one, when Blair appears in your classroom.

“Drink?” you ask.

“I wish, but no, I can’t. First match of the season tomorrow, I have too much to do before then.”

“Oh.” You’re disappointed.

“And I’m thinking, if I’m not going, you shouldn’t go.” You’re about to object to that, but Blair interrupts you before you can raise your objections. “And I’ll make it worth your while. I’ve got a spare hour. I’ll drive you home.”

How can you say no to that?

As soon as you’re through the front door, Blair is on you, kissing you, her hands running through your hair, one hand reaching down to grope your dick. You’re overwhelmed by her. Swamped by her. You try to guide her to the stairs, but she’s in control. She pushes you into the lounge, onto the sofa. She slides between your legs, unbuckling your trousers, releasing your semi-hard dick. Her lips wrap round it with pleasure.

You groan as her tongue tickles the head, as her throat opens to consume its length. God, she’s good. {if Stella > 3}Not as good as Stella, but better than any other throat you’ve tried.{endif} You close your eyes and shiver as she works her way down your length, until her nose is among your pubes, and her chin is tickling your balls. Her throat spasms as she tries to breathe round your length.

She pulls off and pants greedily. Her blue eyes are filled with lust.

“How do you taste so good?” she asks. She runs her tongue along your length, flicking the head. “The only thing better than having that down my throat, is this.”

She’s standing. She pulls her yoga pants down to her knees. Her knickers follow. Then she’s over you. Straddling you. Lowering herself onto your shaft. She’s dripping wet and eager. Gravity aids her slide. As she sinks her knees flex inwards in pleasure, squeezing you between them. Once all the way down, she pauses. Stares into your eyes. Giggles and starts to ride.

At first, it’s slow, up and down your shaft, her pussy clamping down on your length, its walls catching your tender spots. But the longer she rides, the faster she gets. She props herself on her knees and she twerks. Only the tip of your shaft remains in her. Only the top feels the pressure of her pussy. Only the head remains buried for the entire motion. But the pleasure is matched by the **** of her movements. Fast, furious, unrelenting, the lips tickling the foreskin, the glans on the edge of slipping out. It’s more than you can handle. You can’t hold on. You shoot your load. And the moment she realises you’re cumming, she sinks down to accept it.

For a moment you remain there, locked in panting. She’s staring into your eyes with a smirk of amusement.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to last long. Then again, I don’t have time. Must go. But I needed that.”

She pulls herself off and pulls up her panties, then her yoga pants. A slight flush is the only indication on her of what happened.

“Hopefully, that’s a good sign for tomorrow. But we’ll see. I’ll let myself out.”

She’s soon gone.