Jan. Week 3: Thursday-Leah Sucks Nate's Cock with Gusto

Leah knelt, knees pressing into the hard classroom floor and she took Nathan’s cock in hand. He was shaking—no, vibrating—like a live wire about to snap. She considered this from a critical distance, as if she were a scientist observing a rare, trembling animal, rather than a woman about to suck off her blackmailer before a busy class period.

She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and heard the air hiss out of him, as if he’d been holding his breath since the day he was born. She took her time, rolling the tip of her tongue and forth back with a practiced flick, then darted her tongue over his tip with the delicacy of a sommelier sampling an expensive wine. He tasted like salt and laundry detergent and excitement. Leah almost—almost—felt bad for him. He was so young. Too young. So young it made her want to puke or laugh or both. Instead, she focused on the task at hand.

She stared up at him, letting her lashes flutter, and watched his reaction: the way his jaw dropped, the way his knees buckled slightly, the way his pupils blew out like black holes. She let her smile show in the crinkle of her eyes and took him deeper, savoring the way his hand hovered, uncertain, over the back of her head, as if afraid she might bite down or vanish. She made a point to hum a little, sending a vibration through his cock. That nearly did him in. She could tell by the way his hips jerked, involuntary, a primal thrust born of millions of years of evolutionary failure.

Nathan whimpered. Actually whimpered, like a puppy **** for attention. Leah choked back a laugh as she bobbed her head, slow at first, then picking up speed, still twisting her hand at the base. He tried to say something, but all that emerged was a strangled “fuh—uh—ahhh—” as if he’d never formed a word in his life.

She let herself get a little mean with it, pulling off entirely, letting his cock twitch unattended in the cold classroom air. His face was like a study in despair and hope, the edges of his lips pulled down in a near-wail. She licked his shaft from the base up, flicked her tongue over his balls, then popped his head back into her mouth, letting her lips snug tightly around his crown.

“God,” he whispered, like a prayer or a curse. “Miss Williams—”

She cut him off, mouth full, by sucking harder, flattening her tongue along the underside of his cock, her hand stroking him with increasing intensity. She’d sucked off enough men in her life to know exactly how and when to push someone over the edge. Nathan, true to his youth, was already teetering on the brink; she could feel the tension building in his thighs, the way his breath hitched and stuttered.

She considered, as she worked him over, the sheer absurdity of her situation: on her knees in a cinderblock classroom, blowing a nervous, trembling virgin. In what universe did this make sense? Yet here she was, the model educator, the loving fiancée, gagging on Nathan’s cock.

He was going to cum soon, she could tell. She wanted to draw it out, make him suffer a little for dragging her into this outrageous scene, but she didn’t have all day. Her planning period was only fifty minutes and she still had papers to grade and duties after school.

Leah pulled off again, letting a string of saliva connect her lips to his cockhead. She grinned up at him, wicked and knowing, and stroked him a few times, slow and cruel. He whimpered again, biting so hard on the inside of his cheek that she could see his temple pulsing. She licked her lips, theatrically, and took him back into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his tip and then bobbing her head in tight, fast motions.

He moaned high and reedy, the sound echoing in the empty classroom. Leah glanced at the door, irrationally afraid someone might materialize out of thin air and catch her like this. No one did, of course. It was just her, Nathan, and his rapidly impending crisis.

“Oh god, oh god, I’m gonna, I’m gonna—” His voice pitched up, cracking with the effort of restraint. Leah prepared for the onslaught of warm fluids and put her right hand on his hip and began to twist her hand on his shaft as her mouth sucked eagerly on his head. He came hard, almost violently, and she barely managed to catch it all in her mouth without sputtering. It was a deluge, hot and bitter, coating her tongue and flooding the back of her throat.

She swallowed quickly, not out of any sense of desire or respect, but because she sure as hell didn’t want to be cleaning up a mess off the floor or her blouse. Nathan sagged against the desk, legs barely holding him up, his face flushed and dazed and utterly fucked out. He stared at her, slack-jawed, as if he’d witnessed a miracle and couldn’t decide whether to worship or run away.

Leah wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood up, brushing off her knees.

“You good?” she asked, voice flat. Nathan just nodded, still trying to catch his breath, eyes glazed with post-orgasmic bliss and something like awe.

“Yes…yesss…” he sighed—his body still somewhere in the euphoria of a lingering orgasm. “God that felt so good Miss Williams.”

She studied him a sense of accomplishment that bordered on the professional. She’d solved the problem, at least for now. Maybe he’d leave her alone for a few days. Maybe he’d get some perspective, realize how insane this was, and move on.

“Well good—now—you need to go. You’ll be late for class and I have things to do.”

Nathan was still reeling, eyes wide and glassy, breathing like he’d just run a marathon but he nodded in agreement. He zipped up and stumbled to the door, glancing back as if he expected her to say something tender. Leah just smiled and nodded her head and waved him off gently.

He left, and the silence that followed was almost peaceful. Luckily, she had plenty of time remaining in her planning period and got some grading done.