The aftermath

You’re both statues quivering as you come down from your high. Ellie lying on your desk, her pussy still leaking her juices, her breasts coated with yours. You’re trying to understand what just happened. What’s just happened, is that you’ve just fucked one of your students, not just that, you’ve just claimed the virginity of one of your students. And it was one of the best experiences of your life.

You just want to dive in again, feel the tightness, feel the heat, feel the dampness. Instead you step back. A few deep breaths and you pull up your underpants and your trousers and readjust. Ellie remains there, still coming down.

“You alright?” you ask. Her eyes focus on you. She nods. While she nods, one hand absentmindedly scoops up some of your cum on her breasts. She brings it to her mouth and licks, then sucks the white, sticky fluid off. Her eyes blaze with more enjoyment.

You stagger to the shelves and find the statuette. Turn it off. In case fucking her was not enough to satisfy her enhanced libido. She doesn’t notice what you’re doing. She’s too busy scooping more of your cum off her breasts and placing it in her mouth where she greedily swallows.

“You need to get clean. Use the bathroom.”

You hand her the clean knickers she’d dropped and guide her off your desk and into the washroom. That gives you time to collapse in your chair and realise what you’ve done.

You’ve just fucked one of your students. And you loved it.

At least she’s 18. It’s wrong in so many ways, but at least it isn’t more wrong. You know you should feel guilty, you know you should feel dirty, but it was so enjoyable. When you were in her it felt so right.

You’re still lost in the morality of it all when Ellie emerges. She’s straightened everything. Only the slight flush to the face, the slight limp in her walk, tells you what just happened. Clues that can easily dismissed, hopefully. What about the sheer lust in her eyes? That can’t be so easily overlooked. It appears to have diminished since you turned the statuette off, but it hasn’t gone away. She’s looking at you like a lover not a student. And you realise you’re looking at her the same way.

“Sir, can we do that again?” The words are music, both uplifting symphony and discordant ruin.

“Not now.”

“No, not now. I feel a bit tender down there, but later. I really enjoyed it. Can we do it again, later in the week?”

You should say no. You should say no and stop this in the bud. But think how Ellie would react to that. She’s a girl with no self-confidence, a girl who might take rejection badly. It’s a flimsy argument, but it’s still the argument that's winning. You need something that stops it without hurting her.

“We can only do it again if you’re on birth control. It took all my self-control to pull out this time. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to do it again. And I can’t get you pregnant. You have to be on birth control for us to do it again.”

Yes, that’s a great idea. There’s no way a girl like Ellie will have the courage to get contraceptives from a pharmacist.

And she’s too nervous to argue against that, because if she argued you’d break. You know it. Your cock yearns to be back inside her. She’s now fully dressed but your mind keeps returning to the memory of her naked breasts, of her naked pussy, of the feel of her skin, of the passion of her kisses, of the taste of her excitement.

You lead Ellie to the door and unlock it. “And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, Ellie, but don’t tell anyone what just happened in here,” you tell her before you let her go. She nods and leaves, looking back once to see you watching her leave the classroom.

Returning to the office you look around, searching for clues to your moral failure. You find them straight away. First the toilet paper you used to mop up Ellie’s excitement. That can be flushed away. Then more damning evidence. Ellie’s old knickers, soaked in the juices of her infatuation. You pick them up and sniff them, and everything that happened floods back. You hide them in your rucksack, right at the bottom. Then you put your rucksack in the bottom drawer of your desk.

You then head to lunch. As you’re shutting the classroom door you see Layla walking towards the classroom. She sees you and then swerves to descend the stairs. As you’re descending behind her you run into Abigail and Anissa coming up it.

“You weren’t at lunch,” Abigail states.

“Yes, sorry, I got distracted. Lunch is still on for another half an hour, though.”

“Yes, you won’t miss it.”

The two women head up, while you head to the dining hall. You pass Layla watching suspiciously down one corridor as you go.