Teacher's Pet (Part 1)

By AbigailThornton

Original link: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/masturbation/teachers-pet-part-1.aspx

Tags: teacher, schoolboy, masturbation, blowjob, voyeur

Added: 02 Dec 2012 Views: 25991 Avg Score: 4.79

A trainee teacher sees one of her pupils naked and fantasies about him

It was wrong. There were no two ways about it. As a trainee teacher, any digression was liable to impact my entire career. But I couldn’t help myself. He was just that gorgeous.

He wanted me and I wanted him but I should never have told him that. Never admitted to thinking about him after seeing him in the boy’s locker room, naked. It hadn’t been a big deal at the time but I’d become obsessed. I’d frigged myself over his tight teenage body twice a day for weeks and every time had been like dying and going to heaven. Oh God, it had been weeks since I’d lost control of myself.

This is how the obsession had started: there were three of us training at the school and we had various duties, swapping between the roles so as to build our experience. Teachers these days had to be flexible. I could be flexible, I could wrap my legs around the waist or neck of any man, woman… or boy.

Joe was only sixteen but he’d already filled-out in all the right places. I still didn’t know why he’d been in the changing rooms when they weren’t timetabled to be in use and I could hardly go and ask him. Particularly given what he’d been doing in there. Or so I’d thought…

I’d been collecting the detritus from the football and netball games. It wasn’t glamorous work, which was why I’d been tasked to do it on my free period. The store cupboard was situated at the rear of the locker rooms between the two sets of showers. With the back door open, it looked out into the area where pupils generally dried off. There shouldn’t have been anyone in there. And there certainly shouldn’t have been anyone drying off.

Only Joe hadn’t been drying off. He’d been wanking off. Given that I had been hidden behind the storage unit I was free to ogle his body, including his cock. I’d seen a lot of cocks over the years; they came in all sorts of sizes and shapes but Joe’s was special.

It was forbidden. And now I wanted it.

I didn’t want to fuck him. At least not yet. I just wanted to feel his cock in my hands, in my mouth. Feel its heat, taste it. Worship it. Give it pleasure.

I wondered what had happened to make Joe hard. Why hadn’t he had a wank while he was hidden in the shower? My memory of him standing highlighted against the white tiles was stark. The blur of motion as he wanked his hard-on. The spurt of spunk, the way he squeezed the juices out of his fading cock and abandoned his seed on the floor.

Boys often got hard-ons at school: raging hormones and hundreds of fit girls made it something of inevitability. It was best to ignore them. But it’s hard to ignore when its owner is standing in the open furiously tugging on it.

I woke early and couldn’t stop thinking about Joe and his cock. I knew the pattern. There was no way I’d get back to sleep. My body had already filled with adrenaline as I imagined doing naughty things to Joe. Imagined that it was him in bed with me, rather than my boyfriend.

Teacher and pupil together. Forbidden sex.

There was no way I could resist the urge to touch myself; the anticipation of the release an orgasm would bring was too great.

I started thinking about sucking on Joe’s cock as I slipped my shorties down my legs, exposing my pussy. The flames of desire were quick to rise as I groped my breast, imagining them to be teenage hands. I was desperate now, the fantasy having made my body sizzle like water dripping on hot coals.

Forcing my fingers into the gap between my thighs, I stopped as my boyfriend snorted and shifted position. Was he awake?

His breathing started again. Deep, steady breathing. I dug my fingers into my pussy. This was going to be a good start to the day.

Sucking on teenage cock. My mouth lubricated. The fantasy was giving a special edge to every movement.

Pussy pulsing.

I imagined taking it into my mouth, being in control. Delicious.

Tingling, building excitement. Rubbing faster, harder. Taking myself right to the precipice then stopping. Holding my pussy tightly as my orgasm misfires and fades. Teasing myself.

Knowing that it’ll be better next time.

I’m stroking his balls. Wanking his cock, which is slippery with my saliva. “Miss, I’m going to…” he says. I take his cock into my mouth and work it.

My body is vibrating as my hand buzzes between my legs. I’m going to do it this time.

My every nerve fires in ecstasy as I imagine Joe pumping his seed into my mouth. My body writhes uncontrollably. My hips working back and forth. Fuck!! So fucking good.

I throw the sheets back, recovering. The fantasies seem so real. They’re so naughty and the orgasms are so powerful.

It’s an addiction.

I want more. Looking down, I can see that I’ve exposed my boyfriend’s cock. My stomach lurches as I think about sucking on it. I love the feel of cock swelling in my mouth. I wriggle down the bed. It’s so tiny, a shrivelled pyramid of wrinkly skin. He shifts as I tease it with my tongue and suck on it gently.

“Hmmm… I’m sleepy,” he complains. Well, his cock isn’t sleepy for long. It grows rapidly, inflating into my mouth as I suck and lick.

I’m imagining that it’s someone else’s cock; that the eyes staring into mine are filled with innocence, rather than sleepy gratitude.

My willingness to please isn’t for my boyfriend. It’s for my pupil. I imagine Joe at my mercy; him giving in to my carnal force, relinquishing control of his pleasure to me.

I’m going to take his spunk from him. Empty his balls.

There’s a grunt of satisfaction and my mouth fills with slimy liquid as my boyfriend’s body arches.

I tense.

I hate spunk. Hate the saltiness, hate the acrid smell but most of all, I hate the texture. But this time my excitement overrides the hatred. I’m imagining that it’s Joe’s spunk. Schoolboy spunk. I want his spunk inside me.

I swallow.

Of course, I pretend that I haven’t. He’ll expect it every time if he knows that I swallowed this time. Instead, I fake the ritual and make my way to the bathroom and run the tap.

Disappoint him, as I always do.

I look at myself in the mirror. Would I swallow if Joe came in my mouth? The endorphins have obviously faded. The idea disgusts me. I disgust me.

Back to reality.