Jan. Week 4: Tuesday planning period- Leah rushes to get the job done...(Luck:+20)

“Can we just get it over with…” she said, barely audible, and he cackled, the sound echoing off cinderblock walls.

She took him in her mouth again and tried to dissociate. Up—pause—down. Air through the nose. This was the cost of silence. Her tongue moved mechanically the way it would for any man whose thumb hovered over her future. She kept her eyes closed as much as she could, but she knew it made him mad when she didn’t look at him.

“Open up, Miss Williams.” Bill’s voice was syrup and barbed wire. “C’mon, show me them lovely eyes of yo’s. I wanna see you appreciate black history up close.”

She did as told, eyes meeting his, his irises glimmering with cruelty and something dirtier: triumph. The cock in her mouth throbbed, and she tried to ignore how her own saliva thickened and dripped off her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this humiliated, but she knew it was only a matter of time before some new low replaced it. At least in here, no one could walk in on them. At least in here, it was only her and him.

He ran a heavy hand over the crown of her head, petting her like a favorite show dog.

“Damn, you a natural-born cocksucker, you know that? How’s a man supposed to get any work done with a pretty little thing like you around?” His laugh was low and hateful and made her scalp crawl.

She gagged reflexively as he adjusted, pushing her deeper, and she tasted the bitterness of his pre-cum on her tongue. She fought the urge to pull away, but his hand was already coiling in her hair. She tried to focus on something else—her lesson plans for fifth period, the sound of distant marching band practice, Jonathan’s dumb voice reading LOTR in bed. But the only thing she could really think about was how easy it had become to let men use her body as leverage, and how impossible it would be to ever stop.

“I bet you never thought you’d do something like this when you signed on to teach.” He thrust again, slow but insistent, and Leah’s nose mashed against his groin. “Bet your man at home don’t even know how good you got at this.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, cheeks burning, and tried to work faster. If she finished him off quick, maybe he’d let her go without more talk. But Bill was in no hurry. He wanted to savor every degraded second.

“Slow down, sugar. Don’t act like you got somewhere to be. I earned this break.” He leaned back and enjoyed not just the pleasure Leah was giving him with her mouth but also the view of her head bobbing up and down, again and again. “You ever think about what’d happen if that fiancé of yours found out? If all them little rich kids knew what their precious Miss Williams did to keep her job?” He laughed again, loud and sharp. “Hell, I might just tell ‘em if you keep on just trying to get it over with.”

She felt a flash of panic then, sharp and bright in her chest. One email, one photo, and her life would detonate—she’d lose Jonathan, her students, her savings, everything.

His hand wrapped around her hair, yanking her face up so she coughed around his cock. “Think I might just have to let you knows how I like it.” He moved her head down to his cock and made her suck his cock, fucking her face using her mouth.

He clamped his hand around the back of Leah’s skull and pulled her down hard onto his cock, not even bothering to slow for her gag. The move was sudden, greedy as if determined to punch straight through her. She could feel the blunt stretch at the back of her throat, the flare of his head, the way every muscle in her face had to go slack to accommodate him. Saliva pooled and spilled from her lips, drooling down her chin and onto his dark thighs, and all the while Bill kept up a running commentary—sometimes taunting, sometimes moaning, always in control.

“That’s it, girl, take it all.” he crowed, forcing her head down so the corners of her lips stretched painfully. “Show me what you learned from that dick you be suckin’. I bet you made more than a few fellas happy in college, didn’t you?”

Leah tried to breathe through her nose, but the thick, musky scent of his unwashed skin and sharp tang of his sweat made her head spin. She just had to ride it out, focus on not vomiting, and hope to God he finished quickly.

Every time she tried to regain control, he’d yank or twist her hair to remind her who was in charge. The pain rippled through her scalp and shot bolts of panic down her spine, but it also kept her grounded, forced her to concentrate on the task instead of her own shame. She felt her mascara smearing, her eyes burning and blurry, but Bill just laughed and told her she looked even prettier with tears on her cheeks.

He finally released his grip and she pulled off and took a deep breath.

“Now…make sho’ you do a good job now ya hear.” he said, his words lingering. Leah wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and pulled a hair tie from her purse, and put her hair into a ponytail.

It was an almost comical gesture—a nice girl, ready for the mess and the work to come. She gathered her hair, twisted it up, and cinched it in a high ponytail. Mr. Bill grunted in approval, and with a crooked, hungry smile, watched her prep like she was about to tackle the SATs, not the business end of his cock.

Leah got right back into it, this time going harder, meaner, faster. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, just at the base, and bobbed her head until she felt the heavy thud of his tip press at the back of her throat.

She let herself gag, just a little, because she knew that would drive him wild. She felt her spit start to pool and run down to her wrist, coating his cock in a slick sheen that made each stroke nastier, wetter, louder. It was a human carwash, and his cock was the only exhibit.

It wasn't long with this kind of attention though that he was moaning louder and louder.

"Shiiiiiiiiiit gal you finna make me fuckin' cum..." he said, his voice a warning and moan of pleasure all at once.