Teacher Student Romance

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I frequently joked that I would be one of those teachers who ended up in the news. I taught AP English at Washington High School in Cleveland Heights. Every year I taught the same exact lecture to prepare my seniors for the Advanced Placement test which would allow them to skip their first year of college English. And every year I would fantasize about fucking all of them. I was a horny bitch, no if’s, and’s, or butts. Boys or girls, it didn’t matter. I genuinely believe every high school teacher has masturbated to a student at least once. For me it was at least once a day.

Some were attractive, and others were still battling puberty. Some students were confident in their youth, others were socially awkward. It hardly mattered to me. The most erotic aspect was the depravity. How forbidden the act was. In a way it was humiliating—the idea of allowing my students to fuck me. This authority figure giving into her animal instincts, losing control. I never acted on it, but God did I think about it on an hourly basis. They were all horny all the time, and I swear it rubbed off on me. Something with the pheromones in the air turned me into a dumb, horny animal.

I entered college wanting to help kids, but by the end of my first week of being a TA, I wanted to help students in a completely different way. Something changed inside my brain. You see it in the news all the time. These young, beautiful women, many of them married, and they just can’t stop themselves from fucking their students. My favorites are the ones busted for sodomy which means they sucked cock. Imagine giving up your career and reputation you built for almost a decade just to suck an irresistible cock. I think about their cocks a lot. I imagine them in the locker room after gym. Their beautiful, flaccid cocks bouncing as they walk. I could just walk in there. Would they know my body was ready? How many of them could take turns on me before I was discovered? How much cum could I swallow in that time?

I knew it was a matter of time before I lost control. I could feel my pussy taking over, urging me to indulge. I was twenty-eight but looked like I was twenty. I dressed casual. I would consider myself reasonably attractive. I was thin but not toned. My butt was getting fatter from sitting full-time, and my breasts were uninspiring B-cups. I did my hair and makeup every morning to look fuckable. I was young and hot compared to some of the crones I worked with, and this won me favor with my students. They always seemed more comfortable with me. The boys would cuss and tell dirty jokes, and I’d laugh along. The girls would talk about the boys and their sexual encounters. I was basically one of the students. I even knew what many of them enjoyed sexually.

When I arrived for my first day, the principal put me through a one-on-one orientation which lasted for hours. Even by then, after countless hours of classroom experience, I was a needy bitch. At the time I thought I could control myself. I loved to masturbate and sometimes did it three times a night. Mr. Pencock was his name. What a fucking name for a high school principal. The students called him Mr. Bent Cock. I also called him that when joking around. My first day he showed me around the building. He showed me the lounges which even as an adult fascinated me as part of a secret architecture I had never seen as a high school student. I met some of my coworkers and was shown the library and cafeteria. After discussing fire and active shooter drills, we went into the more technical stuff about lesson plans and curriculum.

Before we concluded, he commented on how I was a young and attractive teacher. I thought he was going to pressure me into sex. I would have accepted eagerly. Before being a teacher, I often fantasized about being pressured into sex, especially by someone who held power over me. Blowing my professor so he didn’t fail me. Letting Mr. Pencock raw my dirty pussy so he didn’t fire me. I was ready to serve, but he didn’t intrude. Instead, he mentioned the school has a zero-tolerance policy for sexual misconduct. If it was discovered I was having a sexual relationship with one of my students (like I could stop at just one), the school would do nothing to protect me legally and would instead turn me over to the authorities immediately. It was almost like he was daring me to suck their cocks. Of course, I promised him I would uphold my professionalism, even though I wanted him to get unprofessional with me. He was a bald man in his 50’s with a powerful gut, but I would have sucked his cock like a champ. Like I said, it’s not about attraction with me. Only depravity and humiliation get me off.

In the beginning I could suppress my urges, but each subsequent year, the desire became more unbearable. I just wanted to present my fat ass for the class and have the boys run on a train on my unprotected pussy. I wanted to be a cum dumpster so bad, just filled with a cocktail of their sperm, breeding me like an animal. Even the girls I would have gladly got on my knees and ate each of them out while the others watched. My authority in class became ataşehir escort bayan tenuous as I secretly begged for someone to take control of me every year.

I kept my clothes in fashion, my hair nice, and my makeup on point. I waxed my pussy even though I wasn’t having sex with anyone. I never took birth control. I wanted to be rawed like a bitch in heat. I used to wear low rise underwear but eventually switched to thongs. I wanted to always be ready and desirable for when a student decided to make his or her move. By my third year I kept a change of clean underwear in my purse because I would soak through my first pair by lunch. I must have radiated sexual energy like a small star. The boys loved me. They always told me I was the coolest teacher they ever had and was so easy to talk to. The girls commented on how nice and pretty I was.

I started slow, inconspicuously to give myself plausible deniability. As I graduated towards sexual availability, I wanted to forsake panties all together at school but reasoned I could get myself in trouble if the students noticed, even though that’s all I wanted them to do. I sat in a way to casually expose my crotch to the class and would notice all the boys, and some girls, taking interest. Everyone in class knew I was single and during lunch would comment about how amazing I was and still single. I should preface that by saying I had students in my classroom during my lunch period. Technically we were allowed in order to help students study, but all we talked about were relationships, sex, movies, Youtube, Instagram, and other crap. I had a Facebook and friended all my students. I debated having an Instagram but didn’t want to get fired for being a woman, and said as much to my male students. They politely reminded me I was too hot not to have an Instagram, but what’s a girl to do with Mr. Bent Cock breathing down my neck.

Each year I became more bold in my subtle approach. I attached my email to the syllabus at the beginning of the year and encouraged students to email me if they ever had questions about the books or assignments. This didn’t work how I intended, and only the most over-achieving students ever messaged me, usually about potential extra credit. Being a little insidious, I purposefully created difficult assignments and projects which forced more students to approach me. I happily sat in just my underwear at home and corresponded with them. I desperate wanted to Facetime with them and ask their opinion of my underwear or my bare breasts.

Though I was young, fun, and available both socially and sexually, it became clear none of my students would make the first move. The boys would often comment about how I was the hottest teacher, or wished I was a student, but they never initiated. Sometimes during lunch I’d have five boys in my room and would just drip into my seat behind the desk, imagining a blow bang. It go to the point the varnish was coming off my wooden desk chair.

Everything changed the year Owen came into my class. He was eighteen, athletic, had shaggy blond hair, and an outgoing personality. All of that was great, but he also favored baggy basketball shorts, even in the winter. Sometimes, at just the right angle, I could see his smooth pink sack inside his boxers or the tip of his cockhead. He sat right in the front of the class like a good, attentive student, and I could barely function. I constantly fantasized about his cock on my lips. Pushing into my mouth and down my throat. He would stroke my hair and tell me I was a good teacher.

Owen was the reason I got a burner phone. I registered it to a fake name and address and went about my plans to seduce him. I had learned waiting for a student to make the first move was hopeless. One of my old plans quickly bore fruit again that year as most of the students were emailing me with questions about their assignments. After corresponding with Owen, I asked him to come see me after class about his project. That night I must have masturbated four times just to him. It had to be him. I desperately wanted to suck on his cock, but I also wanted to feel him inside me without a condom. I wanted him to slap my fat ass and call me a whore for not using a condom. I wanted him to blackmail me. I wanted him to make me suck his cock in front of the class. I wanted to eat his asshole like an obedient bitch. I only fell asleep that night from total exhaustion and my fourth orgasm. Even that morning, I sat in the teacher’s parking lot and masturbated in my car as I watched the students enter the building.

As if by divine providence, Owen’s class was last period. It meant I’d have to wait all day just to see him, but it also meant I could be alone with him if I timed things right. The day drained by like an eternity. During lunch period I excused myself to the bathroom to masturbate, joking to my students I needed to “rub one out” which made the small group burst with laughter and nervous giggles. In the stall I stood up and put one hand on the wall, imagining Owen railing me. He would be so rough with me and blow a thick load in my escort kadıöy unprotected pussy before yanking my panties up and giving me a smack on the ass. I was seriously tempted to get his name tattooed on my ass after school, but knew it could put him off if he ever saw me naked.

Eighth period finally came. Owen walked in and greeted me with a smile. As he sat down, I noticed it. He was wearing his dark green shorts. I knew them by heart because they were extra baggy. Inside I could see his bare thigh, his sack, and precious cockhead! He wasn’t wearing boxers! I wanted to lunge at him and yank his shorts down then worship his cock like a slutty acolyte. I needed him in my mouth. I needed to nurse like a starving kitten. I just stared at his near hairless, milky thigh, imagining kissing the seam of his thigh and hip before I sucked his balls lovingly. I imagined him looking down at me with his balls in my mouth. What he would think of this whore. Class had started for five minutes, and all I could do was stare at the tiny show he had put on for me. Eventually he motioned for me like, “You gonna’ start class or stare at my cock all day?” I would have chosen the latter if it was socially acceptable.

There was no way I could function that afternoon. If I stood, there was a good chance I would throw myself at his beautiful pink cockhead, or everyone would see my pussy had soaked through the skirt I was wearing. Instead I hooked my laptop to the overhead projector and put on a documentary about the book we were reading, The Great Gatsby. This turned out to be a mistake as turning off the lights for the projector meant I could no longer see his beautiful genitals. But the room was dark and most eyes were on the screen and not on me. While the class watched, I casually rubbed my clit through my panties. No one could see my hand with the desk in front of me. I imagined Owen noticing though. Noticing what a slut I was. Making me go in the hall only to force his cock in my mouth. Or maybe finger me fiercely and telling me to stop acting like such a whore as he forced me to orgasm.

I inched closer to an orgasm. I was bold and stupid like a horny highschooler. I tried to control my breathing as the orgasm rushed on me. I trembled with erotic excitement. I had just orgasmed in front of my class. Thank god I didn’t squirt. At best they would think I had pissed myself. Though I did wish the class would strip me naked, take me outside, and me make me pee like a dog. Saved by the bell, most of my students were eager to get home. Owen stayed though. I could barely make eye contact with him after climaxing in front of my students. He was patient with a smile. I wanted to get on my knees and show him how much I loved him. I wanted to gift him my panties. Instead, I wrote down the number of my burner phone and gave it him, explaining I was busier than I intended to be but he could call or text with any problems. He smiled and thanked me before he left. I watched his flat butt leave, imagining eating his asshole.

That night, I masturbated like a fiend. I got no work done. No grading, no lesson plan. All I could do was look at pictures of twinks online who looked similar to Owen and masturbate like a fucking sex addict. It had to be him. I needed his cock inside me. My pussy gushed in anticipation to the point I was forced to sit on a towel. I masturbated five times and my clit ached like a lit match head. I thought I could die from too much horniness. Then Owen texted the burner phone. I jumped. My heart raced. All it said was “hi”. I texted him back, asked if this was Owen. He said it was and asked how I was. My mind flashed to a post coital scene where he asked me how I was after ruining my tight little asshole I kept bleached just in case. I said fine and asked him what was up. He said he had a confession to make.

I could have died the way my heart was pounding. I slammed a glass of water as my mouth went paper dry. I asked what was going on. In a long text he explained that he thinks I have a crush on him. He said he suspected as much after I offered my phone number, and then in class he caught me staring at his junk. The roller coaster had jumped the rails. There was nothing left to do. I could have said he was being ridiculous. I could have said other students had my number who were struggling. I could have said I was sick that afternoon and that’s why I left him so abruptly. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Sometimes in your life there is such a powerful, undeniable truth it is impossible to speak a falsehood. The magnanimity of my desire for Owen made lying impossible. Or maybe my needy pussy had fully overtaken my higher faculties. Regardless, I confessed to Owen. I admitted I did have a crush on him. I said how handsome and smart he was, and I thought about him constantly.

The entire time I texted, my heart hammered in my chest. I played with my aching clit like a demon as I texted with the other hand. To my euphoric shock, Owen texted back saying he felt the same way about me. He said I wasn’t like other girls (whatever the fuck that means). He said I maltepe escort was beautiful, and smart, and easy to talk to. He said he didn’t know how to approach me so he freeballed that day (his words, not mine) to see if I noticed. He said I just stared at his cock and balls for fifteen solid minutes (an exaggeration but who cares) and he knew I had feelings for him. Then…my god…and then…he sent me a picture of his hard cock. I came. I splashed my keyboard, and the monitor mid-rub. I felt like I had just shot heroin. There was his cock in all its glory. Proud and erect. A good size with a fat head I would surely feel when it was inside me. I literally began to drool. Quickly I rushed to the mirror and took a naked picture with my head cropped out. Though my instinct was to have Owen fuck every hole on my body, I still had a sense of preservation for the relationship and didn’t want anything that could link directly back to me.

He texted me back a single word, “wow” then explained he was masturbating to me. I confessed I was masturbating to him. He told me he would fuck me so hard I would forget about my boyfriend. I told him I was single. He immediately asked if he could be my boyfriend. I said yes but told him I could get in a ton of trouble if anyone, even his friends, found it. I told him he absolutely could not tell anyone or share my photos or I would go to prison. He promised not to tell anyone and told me he loved me. His naive affection was cute. We stayed up to 2 am sexting every thing we wanted to do each other and sharing porn. I told him I loved his cock and desperately wanted to suck it. He said he wanted to touch and suck my breasts. For the weekend he came up with a plan where he would say he was sleeping over at his friends house and asked if he could come to my house. I’d have to pick him up somewhere but desperately wanted him in my apartment where he could fuck my brains out. I agreed and our relationship grew.

Owen was smart. At school we barely acknowledged each other, though he stopped wearing underwear after that so I could admire his balls and fantasize about kissing and sucking them. When we sexted, it was often about him fucking me at school. I told him all my nastiest fantasies about fucking everyone and he said it was hot I wanted to fuck girls. I said someday he could watch me with a girl, and he said he definitely wanted to see that. My sex life became hellish and unmanageable as I masturbated constantly in anticipation of Friday night. The day finally came, and after class he gave me a knowing smile and said he’d see me on Monday. That evening I picked him up at a park before dusk where there wouldn’t be security cameras. In my apartment, I felt like I was smuggling a dangerous fugitive.

Owen had the sense to behave normally, not trying anything before we entered the apartment and locked the door. He admitted he was nervous. I told him I was too. He leaned in and kissed me, squeezing my breast through my top. My hand darted for the waistband of his shorts, and I found his smooth cock, already hard for me. We kissed a moment, then I dropped to my knees and took his full length in his mouth, throating him. He gripped my head and almost fell over. Everything after that felt like a blur. I finally gave up his length and gasped for air. My heart hurt it was pounding so hard, and it felt like someone was crushing my clit. I kissed and nuzzled his cock, draping his shaft and balls over my face as I found his asshole and tongued at it. He quickly removed his shorts and stood proudly. His balls were neon pink and so soft as I draped them over my face and nuzzled them. I kissed and suckled, indulging every inch of his eighteen year old body.

He had the stamina of an eighteen year old and came in my face and hair in moments before he began to apologize. Still, his cock stood hard. I kissed the warm smooth head and sucked lovingly. My middle finger found his asshole and I milked him as his cum dried on my face and in my hair. He cried out and blew a bitter, watery load in my mouth as he gripped my head. Still he was hard for me. I stood and took my clothes off. In my underwear, he stared at my soft, pale body. I removed my bra, and his cock bounced and twitched with excitement. Without thinking, he fondled my bare breasts like a sexual predator. I stroked his cock as he fondled me. He told me he loved me again and brought my breasts to his mouth to suckle. I stroked his soft, curly hair as he nursed on my tits. I removed my soaked thong which hit the floor with an audible “plop” and stood naked before Owen.

Owen looked at me like he had seen the face of god. I never felt more beautiful or sexual in my entire life. My bare pussy was on display for my student. I planted my hands on the arm of my couch and presented my fat ass for him. Owen knew what to do. He thrust his cock in me roughly, clearly inexperienced, but my pussy was soaked and ready for him. He fucked me like he intended to break me. He was so strong and his cock was so hard. I toppled forward from his thrusts, and he fucked me face down in the couch. My entire body shuttered and my breasts bounced freely like udders. I screamed my orgasm, but he continued to fuck my brains away. His hands were welded to my soft hips, and he grunted as his hot cum flooded my cunt. I came again just from knowing his sperm was in my unprotected pussy.

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