Probably the sexiest event of my life.
I'm completely addicted to this site, and particularly 'enjoy' stories of boys getting hard in school and having a sly wank. I've thought about training as a high school teacher as it's a career I would be well suited for, however I have very big boobs and I'm not sure I could trust myself to stay professional with boys staring at them all day!
The following account is completely true.
When I was seventeen and doing my A-levels, I had a huge crush on one of my teacher,in fact, I had taken his course mainly for that reason (I was one of those annoying kids who was good at everything). He was around thirty, tall, dark-haired and athletic, and wore well-cut suits for school unless he'd been coaching the football team and hadn't had time to change (I treasured those classes as a chance to gaze at his tanned, muscular thighs whilst his attention was elsewhere). We'll call him Mr Smith.
I first realised my attentions towards Mr Smith were returned when I arrived for my first tutorial, alone with him on a Friday afternoon. When I closed the frosted glass door and turned to sit down, there was a slight tension in the air that made me feel as though it was inappropriate for us to be left unsupervised in such a small space.
I dropped my handbag and blazer on the floor next to the chair and smoothed my grey skirt to cover my knees, glancing up to meet his intense gaze. The suggestion of a wry half-grin on his face made the pit of my stomach seem to fall away and be replaced by a delicious deep tingle of desire.
We sat facing each other across his desk and discussed my first essay. I was relieved to find out that it had been a fairly good piece of work, so this wicked sexual tension would not end abruptly and mortifyingly with me exiting feeling like a retard.
As I put my notes in order and put them away in a binder, we chatted about our plans for the coming weekend and he made a cheeky remark about something a classmate had said about my having snogged an unsuitably-aged man in a club the previous week. I blushed and was at pains to point out that I hadn't done anything more than that and the incident had been blown out of proportion. He asked, 'So, how old was this 'unsuitable' man?'
'Um... he was about thirty I guess.'
I leant to pick up my belongings and swung my bag onto my shoulder. He had to pass close to me in order to open the door, and as he did so he said in a hushed tone, '...and how did that make you feel, him being a bit older?'
'It was ok, I liked it.'
He stayed close to me for a few seconds longer than was necessary, poised with his hand on the door handle. Our eyes met for an electric moment in which I became aware of the heat of his body and my own flustered state.
Out in the bright light of the empty corridor, I turned back to say goodbye. He was standing framed by the half-closed door, and I clearly saw his brown suit trousers tented in front with the flagrant evidence of his arousal, which he made no move to hide even when he saw me raise an eyebrow in surprise. He simply winked and said he'd see me for class on Monday.
I spent the weekend wandering around in a horny daze, unable to forget the sizzling chemistry between us. I felt alive with need for him; the need to feel his hands on me and his hard-on surging against my mound. I was still a virgin, in fact had only been fingered once or twice and never anywhere close to orgasm. I was equally naive about penises, nevertheless I knew that concealed under his respectable suit was the answer to the empty, aching need in my pussy. When I angled the shower head to pulse warm water relentlessly against my hot, swollen clit it was with a mind consumed solely with the image of him standing before me and unveiling that secret part, thrusting it against me so that it throbbed urgently against my heated folds and finally, unstoppably, pummelled deep into my belly to fill me up.
I was never so excited to walk into school on a Monday morning. I had dressed conservatively but (I hoped) provocatively, in a long black skirt made from jersey fabric that clung to the curves of my behind, and a long-sleeved black top with a deep v-neck that framed the pearly white skin of my chest and the very top of my succulent cleavage. My brown hair was straightened and hung down almost to my boobs.
Having sat through an interminable English Lit class on Richard II, it was with damp thighs that I made my way down to the History department. I stopped en route to apply lip gloss in the girls' loos and also took off my thong as it was soaked with my juices and was starting to feel clammy and uncomfortable.
As it turned out, only a few of us had turned up for the class so Mr Smith told us we could research our next assignment in the library or borrow some textbooks from his office.
The other students drifted away, most probably towards the common room rather than the library, and Mr Smith sat at the head of the classroom doing some marking. He talked to me so that I wouldn't leave too, and I replied to his questions about my weekend, aware all the time that his eyes kept wandering up and down the curves of my body.
He pushed back his chair and picked up a stack of textbooks, keeping up his side of the conversation while he walked out of the room and down the corridor. I followed casually to stay within earshot, and saw him unlock a storeroom on the right.
I stood in the doorway of the storeroom, which was lined with filing cabinets and shelves piled high with books. He managed to wedge the textbooks into a gap on the shelves and turned around, regarding me with a curious, amused exression. Eventually he asked, 'Aren't you going to come in? You make an attractive doorstop, but...'
I stepped into the cool, musty space and the solid wood door closed behind me with what I can only describe as an ominous clunk. In the light from the single, flickering bulb, I saw him step closer and thought, 'No way, this sort of thing does not happen to me.'
He said in a low voice, not quite a whisper, 'Are you frightened of me?'
'No... well yes, a bit...'
He chuckled softly and made his first, forbidden contact with me, cupping the swell of my hip and tracing my waist with his fingers.
'Well, maybe you should be.'
In one thrilling, dizzying moment he backed me against a filing cabinet, pinning me there gently but firmly with the weight of his lower body. He leant down and kissed along my collarbone to my neck, where he hooked my hair to the side with his index finger and nibbled up to my earlobe, before unhurriedly planting a single kiss on my parted lips. His other hand had continued back down my side and over my hip to encircle my bottom cheek.
'Hold on, are you... are you not wearing any knickers?'
'Ah, erm, no I'm not.'
'Oh my god...' He plunged both hands down the back of my skirt and caressed my smooth, fleshy bottom, pulling me to him and squeezing his erection between us. With his hand still in my skirt, he slipped it around to my belly and dipped a finger down into the crack of my sticky thighs. His hand was instantly and liberally coated with my slippery juices-I felt them flood out and was embarrassed by this evidence of my intense physical response to him.
'Oohhh... you're wet, girl,' he moaned appreciatively, pulling his hand up to his lips and and sucking the slick, sweet substance from his fingers. Our eyes met and we shared a look of mutual need. Without looking down I traced the obscene bulge in his suit pants and let my palm rest over the swollen head of his cock. His hips trembled as the underside bumped my wrist and he let out a gasp.
I had waited long enough for this moment and started to undo his pants to see my first real, live hard-on. I fumbled with his belt and button, and slowly drew down the zipper, enjoying the contact with his warm, thick shaft through the cotton of his boxers. Eventually he grew impatient for me to feel his bare cock and pushed down his underwear to let it flop out. I watched, fascinated, as it bobbed and seemed to strain towards me. I was unsure about touching it but he took my hand and wrapped my fingers over the shaft. It felt as though it had a life of its own, pulsing and twitching under my touch, taut with sexual energy.
He began exploring my pussy with his fingertips, probing delicately between my slick folds. His experienced middle finger slid exquisitely around my clit, tickling my nub without making direct contact. I panted a little and felt my knees weaken. With his other hand he squeezed and rubbed my boobs and pulled the straps of my bra off my shoulders so he could free each breast in turn. He leant down and gently mouthed my nipples, tonguing them while he supported each boob with his hand, never letting up from his delicate ministrations to my pussy.
He looked up and watched my face as I got close to orgasm. I had all but forgotten about his hungry erection, now pressed into my hip, for the time being, and focused on holding tight to his waist and hips to keep my balance as I bucked and trembled. He had one finger crooked in my pussy to tickle my g-spot, while his thumb diddled my clit, and in time with his finger movements he ground his cock against me. Looking back now, he must have been desperate to fuck me but realised I was inexperienced and wasn't ready for that. He breathed next to my ear, 'Imagine feeling my big dick in you, filling you... imagine me making love to every inch of your beautiful body...'
That was enough and my pussy contracted tightly around his finger as I writhed and shook in the throes of the first climax given to me by someone else. As I came down from my high he planted butterfly kisses on my lips and cheeks and fondled one of my boobs whilst furiously fisting his cock, which was now a dark red colour and leaked pearly strands of precum down his fingers. Finally he moaned against my lips and turned his lower body to one side as he shot several streams of cum, which splattered audibly onto the filing cabinets and the floor.
He held me until our breathing had returned to normal, and then sent me on my way with a kiss while he stayed to clean up.
Eight years later, I have had numerous and diverse experiences with both men and women, but if I am ever having trouble reaching orgasm I only have to think of this illicit encounter with my sexy teacher to push me over the edge.