*Author’s note: all characters portrayed inthis story are eighteen or older. Feedback is welcomed, desired and appreciated. Just don’t hurt my feelings!*

The classroom was a mess, people separated in loud companies, guys throwing paper airplanes, gals talking loudly about their nails or hair and others sitting quietly, waiting patiently by the seats they had chosen for the rest of the school year. It was raining heavily outside, so what little time the class had before the lessons started, they needed to spend inside. My girlfriends were over there by my desk, the desk in the front row and the closest one to the whiteboard; Marie and Suzie were grinning at me foolishly, giggling from time to time at what I was up to, chatting so privately with our new math professor. I was sitting on a chair next to the professor’s desk, casually talking to him… maybe not so casually, as a matter of fact.

“I honestly hope you find the new environment… intriguing, sir,” I said to him with my subtle, fox-like smile and that innocent voice. He’d just been transferred to the suburbs, and I thought I should be the first to make an impression. Before I’d approached him, I’d made sure my cleavage was open, showcasing all the goods that men loved about my top. If those weren’t enough to win him over, my smile would do the trick.

“Oh, I find the new environment most welcoming, you can be sure of that,” my professor was saying, almost defensively, refraining from looking directly at me as if, had he dared to, he would slip and take me right there. He pretended to be busy pulling out papers from his suitcase and readying himself for the lecture. I knew how to read men, and this one was all lust, though a carefully reserved one. His wife wouldn’t have been satisfying him properly, I thought. I pulled my eyebrows together, slightly annoyed that he resisted me – he cleverly countered me, using welcoming instead of intriguing, which suggested other things. I decided to shift gears.

“I’ll admit, math was never my strong suit,” I cooed, sounding somewhat let-down on purpose. In fact, that was a lie. I was a star in school. “Last semester was a disaster. I’d like it if you’d show me some personal guidance.” I leaned towards him, teasing the view of my tits that any guy in this school drooled thinking of. Mr. Phillips stopped sorting his papers and looked at me rather sternly. He was kind of cute, with his closely cropped beard, brown eyes, round face and straight nose; but he was too old, like fifty or something. Waaay too old. I could not even begin to imagine him ravishing a young flower like myself.

I released my long, blonde hair, letting it fly above the desk, something I knew added to my sex appeal. But he would have none of it.

“I will make sure you have no questions by the end of this class, Ms…” he looked through the list of students, “… Rousseau.”

I couldn’t believe he just said that! Ms. Rousseau. How dare he talk to me like that! I wasn’t used to being called miss. I’d already told that bastard my name was Christina. I huffed and got up from the chair, straightening my chest; he’d already returned to his papers, missing the haughty look I threw at him before I hurried back to my girlfriends. They were covering her mouths with their hands, their shoulders rocking with laughter.

“Seduction don’t work like in the movies sister, you know that,” Marie screamed so she could be heard through the fuss. I sat sulking on my chair next to the black girl, ignoring her; I stared at our new professor with hostility. My girlfriends had challenged me to flirt with him earlier and I wasn’t one to back out – if I lured freshmen to my net with guile, why not professors too?

Marie and Suzie didn’t dare mention that I failed to woo our new professor. Risking a queen’s wrath is something you should avoid altogether. “Damn, girl,” Marie went on awkwardly, “he’s a tough nut to crack, ain’t he?”

“Maybe he doesn’t like girls,” fat Suzie suggested, giggling stupidly; I paid her little attention.

“Oh, you think he’s gay?” Marie retorted.

“No, he isn’t,” I said with my usual confidence. “All men are the same. All they want is sex, you can see it in their eyes. He’ll flip, I know it. They can’t resist for long.”

“Hey, umm, girls?” Marie said suddenly, and she and Suzie leaned close to me so we could talk privately. “Tray asked me for anal,” she said without preamble. She had a wild look about her, as if she was excited and scared at the proposition at the same time. I’d heard guys saying Marie had a butt made for anal, but I honestly couldn’t see it. It was too big, how could any guy like that kind of butt?

I laughed loudly at the thought of anal and Marie and Suzie joined me too. “Eww. Ugh, anal? That’s so slutty, you aren’t a whore, Marie.” We were definitely a classy bunch, me and my girlfriends. At least I was. The thought of putting something near there was ridiculous. Only trashy girls did anal. Marie was about to say something, when the bell rang.

The new professor hurried everyone to their seats and introduced himself. His name was Gregory Phillips, math professor, and he was here to teach us a thing or two, blah blah. I leaned on my elbow on my desk, thinking that if he was fifteen years younger, he would be a hottie. As he spoke, his gaze did run past me a couple of times and I imagined his short beard brushing against my face as we kissed, but his face changed into a younger person in my fantasy that wasn’t quite Mr. Phillips. I was desperately horny, having spent a summer with my uptight and old fashioned grandma who was on the lookout for cheeky boys I might bring home. Not that I’d do anything but make out with them or let them go down on me. I was still a virgin, truly, but no one would’ve guessed.

Mr. Phillips went on reading the list of the students in the class, to get acquainted with them. I’d forgotten that new people would be joining the class. I glanced at each of them as they stood up to introduce themselves with a semi-bored look on my face. There were a couple of cute new guys who I wouldn’t mind teasing, few girls that didn’t look pretty enough to be any dangerous to my game. When all of those were introduced, I began turning away, disinterested in the rest, but there one student in the far back of the class had yet to be introduced. He didn’t stand up when his name was called.

“Alex Hunter,” the professor said.

When my eyes first caught sight of him, my breath caught in my throat. He was tan and his muscles were showing through his shirt, wet and sticky from the rain. He was wearing glasses with tough-black skeleton, had a short beard and thick, dark and spiky hair that rose up just the way I loved it. His desk was right beside the window, so now that the rain was over, he was shrouded in a generous light. The sight of his dark-haired angel sent a bolt through my pussy. My panties were wetter than any other time in my life and my heart pounded in my chest.

“Hey,” he said deeply to the class, waving one hand, then crossing his arms and staring back at the professor; I tried reading through his blank but powerful expression. I guess he was a serious person; he looked rather intense, as if he was the king of this new Kingdom he was brought in, or so I liked to imagine, which made me all the wetter. The glasses didn’t do anything to make him look nerdy. They instead added to this sense of authority he projected. I bit my bottom lip, shifting my legs at the tingling between them. I hadn’t seen a guy like him, ever.

Mr. Phillips turned to me. “Christine Rousseau,” he said. The class was staring at me.

“What?” I muttered, still in a trance. “Oh. Right.” I stood up and faced the class. “Hey guys,” I said cheerfully, waving my hand excitedly, bouncing my tits and smiling broadly. That was how I became class president three years in a row. Some of the guys grinned back at me; but I didn’t have a single care in the world for them. My eyes travelled to the far end of the class, to the stud with the glasses, curious to see his reaction. I didn’t see it. He was just doodling on his notebook.

He was just new, he didn’t know that I was this school’s queen, nor that my flawless body frame was lusted after and admired and that all the boys would give anything for a chance with me. And here he was, doodling, ignoring my greeting, completely unaware of my existence. I was shocked. He must be gay, I thought, out of spite, or an asshole!

The lecture had started, but there was no way I could concentrate. I spent my time fixing my hair and glancing behind me every so often, to catch a glimpse of the stud in the glasses. One time he was leaning above his notebook, the other times he was staring at the ceiling or outside the window, but never towards me. This wasn’t at all like me – usually, it would be me ignoring the guys, not the other way around. But he hadn’t even remotely noticed me! I decided that that had to change immediately.

The wait for the next ringing of the bell was torture. I thought of several ways of approaching him, but I then convinced myself if he liked me he would approach me himself. His last name came to mind – Hunter. That had better be symbolic, I thought. I didn’t want to wait long… my mind wandered to several outcomes of his approaches, keeping my panties in a constant state of slick wetness. I thought of pushing him to my bed and kissing him, licking his neck as my hands reached inside his boxers… god, I was so hot for him. At this point, I was trying to resist the urge to put my hand inside my soaked panties.

The bell brought me back to reality. Marie came over to my desk and said, “Christine, Tray said we should hang outside.”

“Uh, sure,” I muttered, glancing behind me one more time. My breath caught my in throat again when I saw him, standing up this time. He wasn’t very tall, but he made up for it with his muscles. Also, now I could see he was wearing grey shorts and Vans black and white shoes with a chessboard pattern on them. I wondered momentarily if chess was his kind of game. I lost him in the crowd that was moving out and fat Suzie appeared before my face. “Come, Christine, or we’ll get trampled.”

Outside, there was that thick earthly smell after autumn’s rains that I disliked. We sat on a bench under a tree with dried leaves. Marie and Suzie must’ve been talking about sex again. I wasn’t paying attention. My mind was occupied with the making of a plan on how to get Alex to notice me.

Soon enough, Marie’s boyfriend Tray and his friend, Matthew showed up, only they weren’t just the two of them as per usual; my heart jumped in my chest when I saw Alex walking beside them. There was something godly about him, about his every feature, even the way he walked, proudly and regally, almost like a prince. My mind raced again, trying to understand why a newcomer was hanging out with the old guys. Tray and Matt seemed to know him, by the way they talked.

As they got closer, I could see more of his majesty. His spiky, jet black hair was shining as if it was wet in the sunlight. His eyebrows were well-lined, but not in a repulsive way, rather in a sexy one. The light hair above his chin and his smooth lips made me want to kiss him all the harder. God, I would pounce on him right here in the grass if it was somehow right. I quickly adjusted my coat so it was as much revealing of my breasts as possible. When the company reached us, I averted my eyes, pretending to only look at Matthew for some reason, who looked at my exposed, round breasts hungrily.

“Yo,” Tray said by way of greeting, he too stealing a glance at my breasts before sitting on the bench and taking Marie to his knee, “that’s Alex, girls, in case you didn’t hear. Alex, this is Marie,” he said and pinched her waist with a naughty smile, making her giggle and say:

“Hii Alex, pleased to meet ya.”

My eyes were fixed on him. He did the sexiest thing; he nodded, giving her a sharp half smile that sparked a flare of jealousy in me for not being directed at me. I straightened my back, further exposing my breasts for him to look at when it was my turn.

“Likewise,” the stud said politely in a suave manner that made me raise my eyebrows.

“And this is Suzan,” Tray continued, gesturing towards the fatty, who seemed more than happy to be introduced to such a hot guy. She only waved; she must’ve been drooling in her mouth. Hands off, I thought nastily, he is way out of your league. I would make sure she understood that once this was over.

“Hey Suzan,” Alex said, giving her the same, genuine half smile. To my surprise, he didn’t seem to mind her unattractiveness, like most boys do.

That moment, I decided that having Tray introduce me would make less of an impression, so I said loudly, “I am Christine, three times president of the class.” I’d beat myself over that later, as I was sure how awfully attention-seeking it sounded.

Alex looked at me above his glasses. His eyes were green mixed with gray and honey; I was struck by their spell immediately. There was no lust in them, nor did he ever steal a glance to my open chest. There was something disapproving in his eyes, instead, which I couldn’t at the time fathom. He arched his eyebrows slightly. “Were you?” he asked with amusement. His accent was strange, foreign somehow; my first guess was that he was European.

It might’ve been my imagination, but I thought there was a drip of sarcasm in his voice.

“Sure she was,” Matthew intervened, “all guys voted for her.”

I almost trembled at what that comment implied. That fool was ruining my image! I swallowed, but I made sure to change the subject. “How do you know each other?”

And Tray was quick to answer. “Oh, y’know, he’s an old bud… and such. We hung out in elementary, played football like real pros, right? People, you should know - Alex,” he told us, pointing at him and grinning, “Alex’s the best artist I’ve seen. He was painting dragons ‘n shit, real as fuck! Made the football team logo, too, it was fuckin’ A.”

Artist, I thought, interesting. Artists were sensitive people, more able to relate to a girl like me – or so I believed. I looked at Alex, intrigued, wondering if he was anything like an artist should be.

Alex smiled humbly, waving his hand dismissively. “It wasn’t anything difficult.”

I loved the sight of him, his demeanor and his movements, everything. He wasn’t the usual stuck up male that usually stood out; this guy stood out in his own way. I had to shift my legs to relieve the wetness between them. I knew by this point that I had to do everything to fuck this guy.

Matt was taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket; he offered one to Tray, Alex and me. I took it, even though I didn’t smoke often; Matt lit it for me.

I thought Alex would be smoking too. He wasn’t.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said to Matt, who shrugged and put it back.

“Glad to have you back man, that’s all,” Matt said. “I heard you dealt with the pest problem over in Masterson Street?”

“Yeah, man…” Tray said, giving Alex a troubled eye, as if something was worrying him. “Heard ‘bout that. Word on the street is—“

Alex laughed, stopping him. He was smiling calmly, modestly. “Nah, it wasn’t me,” he said.

“What’re you three talkin’ about?” Marie intervened.

“Nothing of major importance,” Alex assured her.

Matt sprung up, changing the subject. “Say, Christine, the class is going to the club this Sunday. You’re comin’, right?”

“Of course,” I said without hesitation, but I wondered if Alex would be there; I glanced to see his reaction. He wasn’t even looking at me! I huffed in frustration.

“A’ight, cool,” Tray said, “I hear it’s gonna be the bomb. Can’t go without sayin’ goodbye to summer.”

Suzie asked the question I was dying to ask: “what about Alex, are you coming too?” she was eyeing him almost naughtily, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he only said. He didn’t seem the least bit interested, nor excited for the fact that I was going too.

After that, the bell rang and we left for class. My blood was boiling.

Alex had still not spared a look towards me; I couldn’t remember the last time I was this vexed. Never had I been more frustrated with a guy, except maybe my dad. All he did while on his desk was doodle, talk to Matt in front of him or look outside the window, as if in deep thought. I couldn’t understand the guy. What was so important that rendered him so socially incapacitated? Okay, maybe I was being unfair about it. But I had to do something to get me to notice him. So, as I was glancing towards his desk for the billionth time that class, I noticed how he was talking with Matt, who had taken the desk in front of him. An idea that seemed brilliant at the time popped to my mind.

When it was time for the next, short break, I stood up and swayed through the desks, shaking my ass more than usual. Alex and Matt were talking with each other, but they stopped when they saw me approaching; Alex fixed his eyes on me and leaned back on his chair, as if he was expecting me to give a show. And I was. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he knew what I was up to. But I didn’t care, even if he did; I smiled down at Matt and swirled around, bending over next to his desk and wrapping my arms around his. “Hey Matt,” I said while offering a nice view of my round bottom to Alex. I’d bet everything I had he would be staring.

“Hey yourself, cuttie,” Matt said, glancing at the open view of my breasts. I could tell he wanted me just by looking in his eyes.

“I was thinking… would you come to my ballet show?” I asked a bit shyly on purpose, though loud enough so Alex would hear me. “You know, just like last year. I wanted to show you a good time.”

By good time, I meant Matt and I would make out and that he would get a good fondle on my body and maybe go down on me. He was excited at the prospect, of course – who wouldn’t be?

“Hell yea,” Matt shouted, “you looked so sexy in that ballet outfit.”

“I know, sweetie.” I couldn’t stand him much longer. I thought I would talk to him for a while longer, but I needed to get out of there. Plus, I needed to know what Alex was doing. I glanced over to him. My mouth tightened stubbornly and my eyes brimmed with anger. The guy had his notebook between his seat and his desk, drawing or some shit. He did eventually notice me staring, so he raised his green eyes and looked at me above his glasses, as if I had just disturbed him from his meditation. I wanted to scream, “what’s your problem?!”, but his serene, almost stagnant expression gave me reason to halt. What the hell was this guy thinking, after he’d seen my ass in my tight yoga pants in all its glory?

I guess his inaction spoke louder than any words he might’ve spoken. I simply did not appeal to him.

***

I spent the entire Sunday evening in front of the mirror, preparing myself. I put extra make up on my pretty face and straightened out my long blonde hair; I wore my great golden ring-earrings and a diamond necklace an earlier conquest of mine had made a gift for me, and smiled sexily in front of the mirror, admiring my nude body with the jewels. The view would make any true man hard. My naked, full, round, heavy breasts with the hardened from the cool air nipples were crowned with the diamond necklace and paired with my smile, my earrings and blue eyes. Down below, my shaven pussy was peeking proudly from the chair. I had to capture that moment with my phone; I was a model of femininity.

Later, dressed in a short black dress that did nothing to hide the top of my breasts or the bottom of my thick thighs, fishnet stockings and silver high heeled stilettos, we sat in the VIP corner of the club, much to my surprise. Alex had yet to arrive, but Tray was going on about how he’d secured that spot for the lot of them. I thought, okay, and sat with Matt, Suzie and Tray and Marie who were making out even before we had even entered the club. Other people from the class had arrived, but I didn’t feel like talking to anyone there; one guy, a friend of Matt’s, came to our table and asked Suzie to dance. It must’ve been the best day of Suzie’s life; she slurred a yes in response and went off eagerly. I arched my eyebrows, wondering what the hell the guy who asked her to dance was thinking, but I quickly understood.

He was a wingman. Tray and Marie were so into their kissing that Matt and I were practically left alone in the table. His eyes were all around my body, travelling up and down, and I was looking away, pretending not to notice, waiting anxiously. Come ooon, he’s got to be here…

“Damn, Christie, you’re killing me,” Matt said, loud enough to be heard through the music. He must’ve downed a dozen bears; his eyes were red and he reeked of alcohol.

Excuse me? I almost said, but I decided to have some fun instead. I was a little tipsy, so… leaving my drink to the table, I moved close to him and sneaked my arm through his, pulling him close. He smelled of alcohol and sweat but I forced myself to endure – maybe Castle Alex would finally fall if he spied us like this.

I pulled my phone out of my purse and showed it to Matt, whose hand lay disturbingly close to my ass. A hint of wetness made my pussy tingle, but it sure wasn’t because of Matt.

I showed him some pics I’d taken with him in our earlier years in the school and we shared a laugh. But then I ‘accidentally’ swiped over to a private pic – the pic I’d taken that evening in front of the mirror, naked and smiling sexily, with my hard nipples poking through.

“Holy shit,” Matt breathed out lout.

“Oh,” I giggled, swiping safely away, “you weren’t meant to see that.” I glanced warily at the guy’s bulging pants. Sure enough, I could tell he was huge and that aroused me slightly.

“What game are you playing, Christine?” Matt breathed heavily, his hand rubbing my ass as I leaned over him, my breasts pressed against his chest.

“Hm? What?” I laughed nonchalantly, tossing my blonde hair.

“You wanna fuck or what?” he said bluntly and I smirked in distaste. I wasn’t about to fuck just any guy and especially – this guy. Hell, I was a virgin. But Matt better not know that.

“Maaaybe, but not if you’re a bad boy,” I teased, batting my eyelashes at him playfully.

“Come on, babe, you’re so sexy.” He brought his hand to my face, guiding it towards his, but I pulled away in disgust. He held my wrist insistently. Suddenly, he was scaring me.

“No. Let me go,” I snapped.

But he was holding me firmly now. “You ain’t going anywhere.” He pulled me close with his massive strength and reached for my ass. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since 8 th grade,” he said, the alcohol in his breath washing over me.

He forced his mouth on mine. I tried screaming for help to Tray and Marie, but the fools were so into each other that I was doomed in the arms of this closet.

We suddenly broke off. Alex was standing on the entrance of our VIP table, taller and broader than he seemed before, dressed in a black suit with a red tie. My breathing stopped, my heart jumped in my chest and my panties were flooded at the sight of him, so godly and perfect. I wondered how was it that every time I saw him I wanted to just jump him right there and then. He must’ve been wearing lenses this time, because he wasn’t wearing his glasses, and his eyes were fixed intensely on Matt, who stared wildly back at him. “That’s enough,” Alex said, “take a walk.”

Matt was visibly furious for a moment, and I thought he was going to attack Alex, honestly. But to my utter surprise, he just rose from the couch and left. I could not fathom why he did as Alex told him at the time, but I didn’t dwell on it for much longer. I was dying of embarrassment, having let Alex seen what he had seen. I felt so humiliated, ashamed! On the verge of tears, I too shot myself from the couch and rushed past Alex without looking at him; I headed to the bathroom.

The bathrooms in this club were cleaner than I’d anticipated. There were grey tiles on the floor and black tiles on the walls, and it smelled of lavender.

I looked in the mirror, my lip trembling, trying to hold my tears in. I was the school Queen, I wasn’t supposed to be treated like that. Like a common whore. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I had it coming.

I wiped my eyes. I’d forgotten my purse on the table, so I had to go get it back.

But once I walked out of the bathroom, someone pulled me to another door with such force that I didn’t have the time to scream. The door slammed shut and locked and I was pinned against the wall, his strong arm around my throat. Alex’s face had tightened in a vastly disapproving expression. “I know what you’ve been doing,” he said between gritted teeth. He was intimidating, intense, overwhelming; his presence filled my world. “I saw you hitting on my friend Matt, how you hit on me at the same time. Even on the professor, you dumb whore? Marie told me you think of yourself some sort of Queen of the school, but I knew that had to be bullshit. No queen dresses like this.”

I don’t know why, but his harsh words sent a rush through my pussy, flooding my panties again as he held me by the throat. But at that moment, I knew exactly what to say. “I did it for you,” I whispered breathlessly, looking at him innocently, pouting my big lips as if I was hurt. I pressed my body onto his, loving the feeling of his tight muscles against my chest. “I did it all for you. So you would notice me. I want you,” I whispered, looking right into his green eyes with profane lust.

Alex did something I wasn’t expecting: he laughed, briefly, but it was music to my ears. Everything about him was beautiful, captivating, and the force with which he held me against the wall made my juices run through my fishnet. “You want me?” he asked sincerely. There wasn’t anything in his eyes to betray his lust, if he had any, and that unsettled me. At times I admire the level of self reservation this man had… not that he displayed any of it in the following moments.

“I want you,” I repeated, more hotly, feeling more submissive in my position against the wall. I reached for his pants, deciding to make him want me too, but he pushed my hand away and I moaned in disdain.

“I feel obliged, then,” he said, more with amusement in his voice rather than lust. He forcefully turned me around and pushed me against the wall. It felt so good to have his crotch against my butt, his tight chest against my back. I dropped my panties to the floor, letting the cool air of the bathroom go up my dress. His hand pulled the black dress up to my waist, revealing my bare, round ass and sneaked between my legs and shaven pussy; he rubbed expertly on my clit and smacked my ass at the same time and I moaned, “shit,” unable to believe this was happening. My juices were running down my legs as I was pressed tightly against the wall; he smacked my ass hard again and I yelped. Before I got much into the rubbing and smacking, his hand went away and I cooed for him.

“You know what happens to girls of your low class?”

I looked at him sideways, biting down on my lip and shaking my head innocently no.

“They get used. I’m gonna use you till you’re sore, you dumb whore,” he hissed, and to my surprise, I didn’t mind his words – they made me wetter, probably because I begun to realize that I was a whore. No guy had ever dared talk to me like that before, but I wanted Alex to. I let him hastily raise my dress above my head and throw it aside on the bathroom floor; he freed my heavy breasts from my bra, tossing it aside. I glanced behind him and I was instantly hooked by the sight: he was removing the top of his black suit and placed it on the hunger. My eyes were attracted to the tattoo covering the right side of his upper chest: a Chinese dragon, roaring and spitting flames. The sight was wonderful, but I couldn’t drink in it for long. He wasted no time in grabbing the base of my hair, turning me around so I was facing him and pulling me down to my knees. I grabbed the sides of his thighs and looked up expectantly at him, batting my eyelashes in the cute way I knew of. My perfect tits were exposed to his view; I was wearing nothing but the stilettos and the thigh-high fishnets, and I didn’t give a flying fuck about kneeling on the dirty bathroom floor.

He pulled down his pants, letting out his semi. He was naked in front of me. Instantly, my pussy pooled on the floor and my mouth watered at the beautiful sight of his dick. Long, thick as my wrist and straight, it was quickly getting hard. I hadn’t done this before – suck off a guy, and the thought of letting any dicks near my mouth was disgusting, before I’d entered this bathroom. But for this guy, something sparked in me. The overwhelming desire to take his dick and balls into my mouth took over me. I wanted to please him, I wanted him to use me. My nipples hardened in the cool air of the bathroom at the thought of being used.

“Do you know how many of the guys you’ve teased want to do what I’m doing to you now?”

“Mhm,” I moaned, surprising myself.

“Hands behind your back,” he ordered me and I obeyed. I must’ve looked so sexy, nude in front of him with my hands behind my back in a submissive position. I opened my mouth very wide and he slammed his thick dick in, pushing all the way to the back of my throat. I choked on it and tried to pull away, but he held me down. “Hold on, it’s not even halfway in yet,” he said harshly. I was shocked he wanted to get all of his dick in my mouth.

When he pulled out, I managed to draw a quick breath, before he slammed back in. This time, I tried to relax my reflex. The fat cockhead slid into my throat after some resistance as he held my head down by my hair. My mouth was watering like never before. I loved it. It was tough to admit and realize it, but my body loved it. He pulled away then pushed my head against the wall, his dick entering my throat forcefully. My mouth was open so wide, the muscles of my face started to ache. He held me down and fucked my face, my earrings and necklace flying around wildly. He was making me gag and choke on my own saliva; drool came flying right off my mouth. Tears were running down my face from the effort to keep up breathing, ruining my make-up. “Close your lips around it,” he ordered, and I obeyed again. My spit pooled in my mouth as he fucked it. The bathroom was full of these sexy, slurping sounds his dick made when it entered my mouth. I was desperate for a breath, but he was relentless. He fucked his dick into my mouth, even though I was choking on my saliva.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. The school queen was having her face fucked like a true whore. He pushed it all the way down my throat; I could barely take all of him. I tongued the base of his dick and looked up at him. His face was twisted with lust and he cursed when our eyes met. He pulled out and I rushed to take a breath; I was panting, the muscles of my face stretched out and aching, spit running from my mouth. He held my chin up so I was looking at him and I did my best to look sexy for him.

He grinned wickedly. “Are you happy, Christie? Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, yes,” I moaned, panting and he grunted.

“Usually, I’d move on with it but you’ve got such a pretty face,” he said. “Open your mouth.”

This time, he grabbed my jaw and held my head back. I opened wide for his thick cock, discovering I had missed the feeling of my mouth being full. He jammed into the back of my throat and I gagged, choking on my spit. I closed my lips around it, like he told me to, though it was harder to take a breath between assaults. He went really wild on fucking my face and I had to put my hands on his ass to control it a bit, but he didn’t like that. He grabbed both of my arms and put them above my head, as if they were tied to the wall. I moaned with lust and a mouth full of cock. He kept fucking my face harshly, sending his dick down my throat with each thrust.

He must’ve had enough by this point, because he pulled me up. I tried to kiss him, but he swirled me around, grabbing a handful of my blonde hair and leading me in front of the mirror. His mouth was close to my ear, his breath hot in my elegant neck. I looked at our reflection, breathless and sopping wet from the way he treated me; I was a naked wonder, even with screwed up make-up and he was a living god. I wanted to feel his hair, his beard in my hands and his lips into mine, but he would not let me. He had other things in mind, and I did not object.

He reached for the soap container next to the mirror. He held me from the back of my neck, pushing me against the counter so I was slightly bent over it as he squirted some soap on his free hand and smeared into my ass crack, touching my flooded cunt generously with his palm, then moving farther up; it felt so good, having this living god rub my ass crack, but it was more the anticipation of what was coming that excited me. His hard, wet rod poked the underside of my legs, constantly reminding me.

I was so wrong about what he had in mind. His middle finger slipped into my asshole and I gasped in shock, “oh god.” His finger in there sent a chill up my spine. I looked at him in the mirror, hoping he would stop. The beautiful features of his face were drawn with passion and voracity as he looked at me like a wolf about to devour his prey. I bent my legs slightly, letting him tower over me; this was not how I imagined having sex. I always thought I would be the one in control.

“Not there, Alex, take my pussy instead,” I pleaded weakly. This wasn’t the Christine Rousseau the school knew of. That Christine would have slapped the worthless male who had dared touch her in that way.

“I heard what you said about anal,” he said wickedly. My mind was racing, and I tried to figure out how he had heard me – his desk was on the other side of the classroom. The only logical thing that came to mind at the time was that he sneaked close to eavesdrop on our conversation.

“What about it,” I countered courtly, gathering my courage for a final defense with a finger in my ass.

“That only sluts do it,” he resumed, “well, isn’t that just right for you? A teasing slut should get what she deserves.”

I was speechless as he shoved a second finger in there. I tried clenching the muscles of my anus, expelling his fingers, but once they were nearly out, they went back in again. It was a raw, unknown feeling that I hadn’t experienced while masturbating normally. He smacked my ass, sending a jolt through my pussy; then he wrapped the same arm around my throat, pulling me close to his face. I arched my back and put one hand on my clit to rub it with fervor, for the feeling of his fingers in my ass was strangely wonderful, and the fact that it was forbidden made it all the more sexier. He pushed my legs aside, knuckling me deep with his fingers. God, he was so sexy. The thought of him using me in this way excited me, but the size of his cock daunted me a bit.

My sphincter had loosened to his fingers, which now penetrated me more easily, thanks to the soap. I closed my eyes and moaned, rubbing my clit. He chuckled. “You’re into this, aren’t you?” he murmured in my ear, and before I could stop myself, I cooed mhm. I couldn’t fucking believe myself. I wouldn’t be doing these atrocities, if I was with another man. But I was forced to accept him, and his fingers, because he was right: I was into it. Yesterday, I laughed from my throne at the trashy sluts who did anal, yet here I was, reduced to the very thing I was making fun of.

It felt so good, so right. My lover was radiating a raw animalism that bent me on its own over the counter and made me moan like a needy slut. He kept his fingering up as he greased his dick with soap. I felt a sting of fear. There was no way that could fit in my virgin asshole. I tried to push him off, but he was too strong. “Relax,” he whispered into my ear, now rubbing my clit. I felt his rock hard dick pressing against my tight asshole. Adrenaline rushed through me and I looked in the mirror, at the sexy god who had pinned me down and was forcing himself inside me. Soap wasn’t the best lube, and the container didn’t have nearly enough, but did I know better at this time?

The head slipped in and I screamed. It was weird and painful, my anus being stretched like that, and I would not have put up with it if was like that for the whole duration. But the guy knew what he was doing. He held it there for a few minutes, waiting patiently for me to adjust. My teeth were grit from the pain. I rubbed my pussy, and that did alleviate some of the pain. “Shit, you’re tight,” he breathed heavily. After waiting a bit, he began pulling out slightly and it suddenly felt good, as the next moment he pushed more of his dick in. Again, he pulled out, and pushed firmly but gently. He was halfway in when he pulled all the way out; the head popped out, only to push and slip back in. My pussy gushed involuntarily. The intrusion felt raw, amazing. The pace was slow like that, in and out, until his thick cock was buried to the hilt inside my asshole, filling it up.

“I feel so full,” I moaned to him. This was not how I envisioned sex, but then again, I had never been impaled anally by a thick rod. It was lodged up there, and I discovered my submissive side wanted it there. That’s where it belonged, deep inside my ass.

“You took it like a champ,” he breathed jokingly and rewarded me with a smack, which sent a jolt through my pussy. He grabbed my boob and played with its hard nipple; goosebumps ran through my body at his touch, so soft yet rough at the same time and electric. I looked in the mirror now. The blonde school queen was getting what she deserved, a thick cock up her ass, degrading to a common slut.

My legs were open in front of the mirror and I could clearly see his fat dick invading and stretching my asshole instead of my pussy, and that turned me on all the more. It was in the wrong place, yet it felt so right, and it looked so beautiful. “You like it?” he asked me, as if he knew of my thoughts, and I could hear his smile.

I whispered, “just fuck it, please…” He suddenly grabbed my hair and bent me over the counter, looking at me intensely.

“Fuck what?”

“Fuck my ass,” I screamed in lust.

“Beg for it.”

“Please,” I looked at him sideways, our faces very close; it seemed like I was on the verge of tears, hurt from his assault and vulnerable to his overwhelming domination. “Please, fuck my ass.” He began sliding out and I tightened the muscles of my anus, as if to shit him out. That intensified the pleasure. All pain had subsided, my sphincter wasn’t even there. He pulled all the way out and slammed back in, picking up his speed as he went. I cried as he began pounding roughly into me, pushing me against the counter, burying his cock deeply inside me, pushing me from my shoulder back to him to keep his thrusts precise. He raised my foot on the counter and kept fucking me like that, now pulling me back from my boob and my hair, and I loved it, I loved the sodomy and I loved every second of the roughness.

“Take my ass,” I screamed, “take it, it’s all yours, take it …” I turned my head, my mouth half open as I moaned with lust like a slut; our eyes met, our faces close; I remember he was grinning wolfishly, sort of. He buried himself deep and then it happened for the first time: we kissed. His tongue was hard and hot on mine. I moaned in his mouth. We kissed passionately as he pounded relentlessly at my poor backdoor. It was the hottest kiss of my life.

Breaking off the kiss, he grabbed my throat and raised my head up so I was looking at the ceiling, and with the other hand he put pressure on the low of my arched back, pinning me down and fucking my brains out. I’m pretty sure I was screaming and muttering unintelligible things at this point. I probably declared my love for his cock, because I did love it. It felt perfect, filling me up, sliding in and out.

He pushed all the way in, holding me down tightly by my arms, my breasts pressed together. His rapacious fingers found my clit, rubbed it for a bit then slid into my pussy; he found my spots quickly, as if he was made to do this exact motion. It was heavenly, and a mind-blowing orgasm came washing over me. He never stopped thrusting deep into my ass as my pussy imploded and my anus clenched and widened around his cock, waves of pleasure rocking my body. I was screaming with wild abandon and removed my foot from the counter, feeling a sudden soreness in my nether regions that followed my orgasm. It had never occurred to me one could cum from anal, or that it could feel that good for that matter.

Alex was true to his word. He would fuck me till I was sore. After I’d cum, he dragged me away from the mirror and set me against the wall, his dick never leaving my poor ass. I could feel my outstretched asshole was beginning to get sandburnt, all swollen and aching, but I never wanted him to stop, feeling that familiar tingle of the rising orgasm in my pussy. “Don’t you stop,” I pleaded. Now that I was up against the wall, my body took the whole brunt of his mighty thrusting. I bucked my ass back to him and he spanked me harshly, leaving red marks on my beautiful ass. It’d hurt to sit down the next day. I felt his breathing intensify and his dick tighten inside me. Somehow, I knew he was about to cum, and too late I realized what that entailed, but at that point I didn’t care.

He grasped my hips strongly, buried himself as deep as he could go and let fly with a grunt. “Fuck, Christie.” My insides were flooded with hot cum, something I thought I’d never let a guy do. But it felt so damn good, and I exploded in another orgasm and a scream. He kept up, grunting and filling me up, thrusting a couple more times. Once he slid out of my swollen asshole, cum leaked off of it. I felt empty, even though my asshole was full of cum. We were both panting and sweating by the end of it.

I felt like I was going to pass out. The world was spinning, and I was in tears. I hated myself. Cum leaking from my asshole, I picked up my bra and put on my dress as quickly as I could, avoiding his eyes and sobbing quietly so he wouldn’t hear me. I glimpsed him cleaning off his dick from the bits of shit and blood in the sink, before I rushed out, forgetting to clean myself. I didn’t find my panties – they must’ve been lost somewhere, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to run at that point.

Every step in my stilettos was a painful one. My asshole had been fucked so thoroughly that I had to sway my ass right and left to accommodate for the pain. I tried clenching it to minimize the leakage, but that made it hurt so bad that I whimpered. I was red faced, in tears, drenched in my shame. How would I ever face Alex again? Let alone spend a whole year in the desks besides him!

As I headed for the exit, a hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me. For a moment, I thought it was him. But no, it was Matt, the last person I wanted to see right now… well, almost. He was grinning foolishly. “Why are you walking like that, Christie?”

“Fuck off,” I yelled, wrenching my wrist free with a kind of strength that I didn’t know I had. I kept waddling to the exit and I heard him burst into drunken laughter. Hot tears were running down my face when I ran outside to the cold air. There was not one soul outside. I hurried along the sidewalk, away from the loud music of the club, when I tripped on my stiletto. The fall sent a jolt of pain in my ass and I screamed in disdain. Getting back up would hurt me, I knew, so I instead sat on the ground, wrapping my arms around my knees in uncomfortable position in which my swollen asshole stung and my pussy ached. I sobbed, my eyes teary. I felt the cum leak out, pooling on my black dress. The fabric would be ruined come morning.

I don’t know how long I stayed there, in the cold parking lot. It seemed like forever. But I couldn’t go anywhere. I needed a phone to call my father to come pick me up, but my phone was in my purse, which I had forgotten inside the club. I dreaded the thought of going back inside. It wouldn’t do if everyone saw me swaying ridiculously like that. And I couldn’t just walk away either.

Lost in my thoughts as I was, I gasped, startled when something landed next to me. It was my purse. I looked behind me; he was standing tall, half his face plunged in shadow. The other half showed a perplexed, but calm look, but instantly, I knew that he understood. “Are you alright?” he asked me, not unkindly. I was taken aback by his sudden gentleness.

“I’m…” Fine, I tried to say. But it wouldn’t come out. My bottom lip trembled from my tears.

“Do you want me to sit beside you?” he asked me and I shook my head.

“No.” I did not mean it, and for a moment, I thought he could tell. And he forgave me for it.

Alex nodded understandingly and turned to leave. “Wait,” I urged him, tears welling in my eyes. “… Alex?” I whimpered, breathless. “… help me, please,” I uttered quietly, weeping. I didn’t know what was up with me. I didn’t usually say “please”, to anyone but my daddy.

His approach was fast. He offered me his hand, which I took, and in one motion, he lifted me in his arms. My ass didn’t hurt as much in this position, I found, which was a blessing. He started walking… somewhere. “Where are we going?” I dared ask. I shivered in the cold, so I snuggled my head up his chest.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked me, his gaze somewhere off.

“Somewhere… not here,” I said and chuckled bitterly. My weeping had stopped; he was smiling gently at me. I leaned my head back on his arm, looking at him dreamily. I ran my hand through his spiky hair for the first time and loved it. He looked back at me with his intense, green eyes and a slightly troubled look on his face. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” he stated.

“Technically,” I muttered wearily. I was beginning to doze off.

I heard a beep. The door of a car opened and I was placed right onto the leather seat. It looked like an expensive car. The moment my ass touched down, I regretted it. He shut my door; I barely noticed, my eyes closing from fatigue. That was it for me, I was all spent.

But the man on the seat next to me was full of surprises. My eyes caught an open notebook on the dashboard of Alex’s car – the same notebook he had in class. A very familiar figure was drawn skillfully with pencil on the first page. I blinked a few times, unsure if it was just my imagination, but through my weariness, I saw it clearly. It was a portrait of me, smiling.