I leaned back against the cool surface of the chalkboard, kicking my heels together and watching Mr. Harrison run a frustrated hand through his hair. I’d been a brat all through his lecture, pushing every button until he finally snapped and told me to stay after the bell. To anyone else, being a Teen Whore would be a label of shame, but as the door clicked shut and the hallway fell silent, I wore it like a crown of pure, filthy gold.
My skirt was already hiked high, and I could see the way his eyes kept darting down to my thighs, his professional mask crumbling under the weight of a desperate, hungry heat. “You’ve been a very bad influence today, Sapphire,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave as he moved into my personal space. I didn’t flinch; I leaned forward, letting the scent of his expensive cologne and raw frustration wash over me.
I wanted him to break. I wanted to see the man who taught me history become a slave to my body. “Are you going to punish me, sir?” I whispered, my voice dripping with a slutty, practiced innocence. I reached out, my fingers grazing the belt of his slacks, feeling his hard dick through his pants with the excitement of his boner straining against the fabric. He let out a deep moan, his hands slamming onto the desk behind me, pinning me in place.
The tension in the classroom was electric, a thick, suffocating cloud of forbidden lust that made my skin tingle with anticipation. He didn’t waste any more time on words. His mouth crashed onto mine, tasting of coffee and desperation, while his hands roamed over me with a frantic, possessive energy. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of his hard, aching cock against me. This wasn’t just detention; this was a graduation into something far more primal.
As he drove himself into my wet yummy tight young pussy right there on the mahogany desk, the screech of wood against the floor was the only music I needed. I was addicted to the thrill of being used like a slut in a place of learning, turning his sanctuary into my playground. Every thrust was a lesson in pure ecstasy, a rhythmic pounding that blurred the lines between student and master.
I arched my back, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I screamed his name into the empty rows of desks. When it was over, he leaned down, his breath hot against my ear as he signed my paper with a trembling hand. “A+ for effort, Sapphire,” he panted, his eyes dark with the secret we now shared. I smiled, smoothing my skirt and knowing I’d be back for extra credit tomorrow.
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