copyright: Lesley Tara, 2012
Our eyes cross occasionally, so fleetingly that no one else in the classroom would notice it. But Miss Harper will have seen the flash of desire in mine, she will have experienced that delightful electric tingle down between her legs from the knowledge of our secret shared – and from the anticipation of what will happen after school today!
No one else in the class would see anything of significance, nothing at all, for Miss Harper’s attitude towards me in public is just the same as to all of the other boys and girls: helpful and encouraging, but in a neutrally professional way. Only I know of the passions that burn beneath her cool composed exterior, and the fires that I have learned to stoke to intensity.
Outwardly, my face shows only the vaguely attentive look that is shared by the other sixteen year-olds sitting in the rows of desks around me, but inside I am so excited, so turned on by my incredible secret – that my teacher and I fuck each other in unbridled hot lesbian lust! I glance around the classroom, and think – if they had any idea, if they knew what we get up to after school, tumbling naked together in a thrashing tangle of limbs in her bedroom, wet cunts smacking down on eager mouths, tongues squirming into slippery slits, puffy labia grinding hard against each other, and long ramming grunting thrusts with that huge strap-on dildo, until there are gasping drenching shudders and wild screams of explosive orgasms – my God, how amazed and shocked they would be!
Behind her neat brown-rimmed glasses, Miss Harper’s clear grey eyes flick my way again. She knows very well what I am thinking about – and it is certainly not the algebra that she is teaching! I know her well enough by now to spot the faint flush in her cheeks and the hint around her lips of the pensive smile that turns me on so much. I know for sure that the pulse is beating a little faster in her throat, and that her nipples are rock hard inside the smooth lining of the full-cup bra that she is wearing – without which, her tits would be jutting out at me like two homing missiles in their silos, primed and waiting for the command to launch.
Oh, yes, Miss Harper knows very well what will happen next, after school ends today, and we are both watching the clock and counting down the minutes. This is one of my favourite times, when my class has our last lesson of the day with Miss Harper (this happens on Mondays and Thursdays), and I can enjoy the proximity of her presence, savouring the special secret that we share and looking forward to our after-school delights.
Without letting it be apparent in any way, I study Miss Harper from the corner of my eye. At thirty-three years old, she is a little more than twice my age – a difference that I find very thrilling and arousing. My teacher has that so-sexy confident maturity that only an experienced adult woman can possess; it is partly her assured poise and partly a matter of her looks and physique, with that slight leanness to her face, the hint of a line at her eyes and cheeks, that slight thickening at the waist – although her figure is very well-kept, and she doesn’t carry an ounce of flab on her body. Just then she stands at the blackboard and turns her profile towards me (is that just by chance, prompted by her unconscious thoughts – or is it deliberate, intended to turn me on even more? Fuck, there’s no need, my pussy is sopping wet already!).
Miss Harper’s blonde hair falls straight from a side parting to just below her shoulders, with a fringe that hangs across her forehead, slightly covering her right eye whenever she takes off her glasses. Her straw-coloured hair makes such an effective contrast with the dark tones of her clothes, and I think she looks so attractive in her neat suit of a black jacket and skirt. The latter is not so short as to seem unprofessional, but it rides nicely a few inches above her knees and she has the lean and shapely legs to carry it off. Beneath the jacket there is a plain blue cardigan top, which on this warm spring day has one more at least of its buttons undone than usual, exhibiting the rising swell of her generous 32E breasts and just a hint of the lace-trimmed edges of her bra cups. I wonder whether – consciously or unconsciously – she loosened the cardigan buttons to give me a nice ‘warm-up’ show before our after-school assignation (is that deliberate again? oh, you sapphic temptress!).
However, gorgeous as her tits are, to my way of thinking her best feature is her ass: it is so trim and neat, with buttocks that are smooth and firm, giving such a subtle sexy sway to her skirt whenever she takes a step. I love to walk behind her, watching every movement, whenever I can do so without it being noticeable, down a corridor to a classroom or across the schoolyard outside. It was no surprise when she told me that she had been a cheerleader at school and university, and she still works out or runs every day of the week What excites me most of all is the surprisingly wide arch between her legs, where they join at the base of her pussy – I just love it when she wears smart slacks (the tight charcoal-grey pair in soft felt are the very best for this) because they highlight that gap between her legs, accentuating it with every stalking step that she takes. She has a fondness for three-inch heels on her school-teacher’s ‘sensible’ style black shoes, perhaps to make up for the fact that in bare feet she stands only five feet three inches tall – which is four inches less than me, although I am much younger and still growing (in every sense – my figure, as well as my height).
Miss Harper has given the class a short exercise to do, and as we silently concentrate upon it she moves slowly round the room, pausing by each boy or girl to see how they are managing and if they need any further instruction. She has started with the row of desks nearest to the door and corridor, and it will take her a while to get to my place – I am almost on the opposite side of the classroom, one row in from the desks that are adjacent to the big windows. I never sit near the front in Miss Harper’s class, as I don’t want to give any hint of having an interest in or connection with her, so there is only one person behind me whilst there are three are in front – with my best friend, Katie, seated immediately ahead of me.
Now Miss Harper is coming towards me, as she moves slowly down the aisle next to my desk, looking at the work of the students who are sitting in the row on my left. Of course, she could have done this from their other side, but I know she has chosen this route so that I can enjoy a close-up view of her front, and then of her back. And what a lovely front it is, especially as she has unobtrusively undone yet another cardigan button – if she went any further, her tits would almost be falling out of her bra!
My sexy teacher pauses just before the desk of the girl who is sitting parallel to Katie – another friend of ours, Melanie. This isn’t her strongest subject, and it’s not surprising that she is struggling to do the exercise. Still, I know it is no coincidence that when Miss Harper bends over Melanie’s desk to point out where she has left out something important, she stoops at exactly the right angle to give me (and only me, for no one else is placed to see this) a view straight down her cleavage. My tongue instinctively flicks across my lips as I relish the sight of her large firm globular breasts and the stylish black bra that supports them, and I feel another warm spurt of arousal in my pussy.
Miss Harper straightens up, her breasts enticingly swaying as she does so, and though it is so fast and seemingly casual that no one else could possibly notice it, I am intensely aware of the split second in which she glances my way in her peripheral vision, as she makes sure that I have not missed the titty-view that she had offered. With the faintest hint of a smile about her lips, she moves down the rest of Melanie’s row and then turns to inspect the work of Paul, the boy who is sitting behind me.
My heart beats a little faster, as she will be beside me in another second. I have already finished the exercise – it gave me no trouble, for I did read the textbook and do the preparation exercise that was set for homework by Miss Harper at our previous class, and I have been listening to her, even whilst my eyes have been enjoying looking at her body. I know that I have got it right, but still there is an extra pleasure in having that confirmed, as Miss Harper arrives next to my desk and glances quickly at my work – although I know that she is looking just as much at the roundness that my breasts make in my quite tight and fairly thin cotton school shirt!
‘Yes, Christine, that’s very good – you’ve got it’, says my teacher, and as she does so her hand rests lightly on top of mine for a second, in such a casual and natural way that I am sure no one would register anything unusual even if they were staring right at me – which, of course, no one is. After the faintest of squeezes of my hand, which she deliberately times to coincide with the phrase ‘you’ve got it’, Miss Harper moves ahead to look at Katie’s work, and in so doing presents me with a close-up view of her taut ass in its tight black skirt. I give a little moan – barely audible, even to myself – as my teacher rounds off this little parade by seeming accidentally to drop her pencil, and she bends from the waist to pick it up, almost thrusting her butt at me as she does so. Her skirt rides up a few inches and – yes! – there is a brief glimpse of a stocking top and the clip and strap that is holding it up. Just as I had thought, and hoped, she is wearing a pair of traditional stockings, and my mind wanders for a moment as I consider which of her suspender belts she has chosen today, for my hot teacher has quite a lingerie collection, with many skimpy, flimsy, gauzy and sexy items. I feel hot desire and seeping wetness flush into my pussy, and I press my thighs firmly together – which has the paradoxical effects of both containing the sensation, and magnifying it.
Miss Harper completes her tour and returns to the front of the room, where she explains certain features of the exercise that she had set and the correct way to tackle it. I know this, and so my mind wanders into pleasant memories of my teacher in various sets of underwear – and in various degrees of nudity!
The hands of the clock on the classroom wall move round slowly, so slowly, but at last it is the end of the lesson, and the bell rings signalling that the school day is over. My classmates spill their books and pens into bags and backpacks, and scramble towards the door, chatting animatedly to each other, high-fiving and full of the teenage energy that has been suppressed by an afternoon of lessons. I deliberately take more time to gather up my things, and giving Katie a smile and a vague wave. I think that she is just beginning to have some suspicions about my sexual orientation (and this doesn’t seem to be putting her off, which is interesting ... hmm, maybe, just maybe, I should carefully test the ground there after all), but she certainly knows nothing of my relationship with Miss Harper. She thinks that on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday I go straight home from school to get my homework done, so that I am free on Friday night and the weekend to spend time with her and our other friends – which is quite true, apart from my special sexual detour on the route home on those days!
Katie nods and waves back, and heads off to the school gym, where she has a practice session of the handball team. The classroom empties in a moment, leaving only Miss Harper still sitting at the teacher’s desk, also not hurrying to gather up her papers, and me now walking down the aisle between the rows of students’ desks towards her. She takes off her glasses, holding them in mid-air in her right hand, but otherwise remains motionless, as I drop my backpack on the floor at the side of her desk and then come round behind it to stand very close to her chair; we are both intensely aware of the other’s physical proximity, and our hearts beat a little faster.
I lean forwards, so that it would appear to anyone who might casually glance into the room that a conscientious student is asking her teacher for a last bit of guidance on tonight’s homework assignment. Instead, shielded from the door by my body, I quickly undo one more button of her blue cardigan and then slip my hand inside the black brassiere cup that encases her left breast, grasping the warm mound of woman-flesh and giving it a firm squeeze. In the process, as I suspected, I feel the hard nub of her engorged nipple, and I rub my thumb across it.
Miss Harper gives a little shudder and a soft moan, and her eyes dart apprehensively to the classroom entrance – but the door has a self-closing mechanism and is now shut, and the short section of corridor visible through its window is quiet and deserted.
‘Christine, no! Oh, Christ, Chrissie, not here ... Chrissie, aaaahhh! Mmm, honey, wait ...!’ she protests quietly, but with a dwindling degree of determination.
My answer is a response not to her words, but to our rising needs. I put my head lower, my teeth almost nibbling her right earlobe, and whisper into her ear:
‘Touch me! C’mon, Miss H., no one can see ... you made me so wet, bending over like that ... so, touch me, there! I want you to touch me there, c’mon, do it right now!’
She knows exactly what I mean. With half an eye still on the door, she places her glasses carefully on the desk in front of her, and then – almost casually – lets her right arm drop from the desk to dangle at her side, her fingertips brushing against my ankle. Then her hand traces upwards, slipping past my knee, rising under my pleated grey linen uniform skirt, sliding up my inner thigh, until at last she reaches my cunt. Her fingers tremble slightly as she strokes the crotch of my plain white cotton panties, caressing the shape of my pussy mound and feeling the dampness that is already there. Miss Harper’s grey eyes are now brightly shining, her cheeks flushed pink and her mouth half-open, her tongue-tip licking along her lower lip. She is so turned on, just the way that I want her to be, and the flicking of her fingertips making a cameltoe of my panties is the perfect hors d’oeuvre for me as well, whetting my appetite still more for the main course yet to come. As a reward, I give her nipple a firm tweak, evoking another gasp from my sexy mature teacher, and then – greatly daring – I kiss her neck, almost a love-bite, but being careful to make no lasting mark. Then I stand upright and take a step away from her, before turning and saying over my shoulder, quietly but full of meaning:
‘Thirty minutes ...’
Miss Harper knows just what that means, and she gives a little shiver from head to toe. I pause in the doorway for a second before exiting from the classroom, and glance back to see that she has lifted the hand that was under my skirt up to her face, sniffing her fingers and savouring the aroma of my pussy from where she had rubbed along the groove in my panties. Her partly undone cardigan is hanging open and disregarded, and I have an extra jaunty lift in my step as I carry away with me the tantalising view of most of her ample shapely breasts encased in a sexy black full-cup bra.
I follow the pattern which has become my routine during these last four months, these amazing months of unfolding discoveries. I leave the school grounds on my own, and catch a bus which goes not to my own neighbourhood but to the one some distance to the west of it, where Miss Harper has her house. It is in a small terrace built in late Victorian days, and like many such there is an alley from the street which reaches the back of the houses, for the removal of dustbins and to give access to the small rear gardens. Just under half an hour after leaving school, I slip quietly along this alley, its high brick walls rendering me invisible to any of the houses, until I reach the back gate of Miss Harper’s house. As always, it is unlocked in anticipation of my visit, and I quietly close and latch it behind me. I take a few paces along the path of slabs that runs down the middle of her tiny garden to the kitchen door of the house, which is also unlocked. I pause on the doorstep for a few seconds whilst I reach under my uniform skirt and strip off my panties, which go into a pouch on the side of my backpack, and then with a twist of the doorknob I enter the kitchen – and the fun begins!
I drop my backpack on the floor to my left and stand beside it, my arms akimbo, surveying the scene. Miss Harper is sitting at the kitchen table, and – apart from having put her glasses away – she is dressed exactly as she was in the classroom, even to still having on her suit jacket and smart shoes. Good, that’s good, that’s just how it should be, and I acknowledge this with the briefest of nods, my face remaining quite expressionless. Slowly, looking her boldly in the eyes the whole time, I shrug out of my maroon-red school blazer, letting it fall carelessly on top of my bag. These motions – as I know very well – have eye-catching effects upon my bust, jiggling my tits up and down, and then pressing my breasts tightly against my white school shirt; when they do so, my aroused nipples are prominently visible through my plain white bra, twin peaks stretching the thin cotton fabric of my shirt.
Miss Harper’s eyes are slightly glazed as she watches this and drinks in my appearance – for, apart from my above-average bra size, I look like a sweet and innocent mid-teenager, and my slim youthful form is shown off to the most arousing advantage by the pretty naivety evoked by my classic school uniform.
My sexy mature teacher shakes her head slightly, almost as if to clear it of intoxicating fumes. She pushes back her chair, rises – slightly unsteadily – to her feet, and moves slowly towards me. I love this moment – the seconds just before the first touch, when everything is on the cusp, tantalisingly poised on the brink of the vortex of unslaked lust and wild physical passion, into which I know with absolute certainty that we will throw ourselves with unrestrained abandon.
I stand quite still and my face is impassive, regarding her with a detachment which I certainly do not feel, as my pulse races and my stomach churns with excitement. When Miss Harper is just a yard away, I make my move – suddenly reaching forwards, seizing her upper arms and shoving her roughly back against the adjacent kitchen wall. She gives a shocked gasp but has no time for any other reaction, for I pull her jacket open and my hands move like lightning to her prominent breasts, mauling them roughly through the two layers of fabric of her cardigan and the supporting bra underneath. Miss Harper’s eyes half-close, and she makes no move to prevent me as I push her jacket from her shoulders, letting it fall behind her. Immediately afterwards I tug the blue cardigan over her head, not bothering with the delay of unbuttoning it, and cast it aside. Then I hook my fingers into the wide lace-trimmed straps of her black bra and sharply jerk them from her shoulders and down her arms, so that her full breasts tumble out of their protective cups. At once I grasp them, digging my fingers almost like claws into the soft flesh, squeezing and kneading them. Miss Harper whimpers plaintively when I take each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger, pulling them forwards and then squeezing them tightly, but I know very well that she is enjoying every second of this treatment.
I grasp the black pencil skirt which I had so much enjoyed watching her move about in during the school lesson, thinking then about how I would strip it from her later. It takes only a second for me to pull its hem up to the waistband above her wide jutting hips with one hand, and to plunge the other down inside her sexy black lace-trimmed panties, to cup her Venus mound in my palm and squeeze it hard, feeling her seeping juices. My teacher gives a broken-backed moan of surrender that is music to my ears, and inflames my lust still further.
‘You want it, don’t you? You fucking bitch, you want it so bad, don’t you?’ I hiss at her, and she gives a little whimper and the faintest nod of her head in shameful admission.
Shoving the panties a couple of inches further down her firm thighs, I twist my wrist, extend my index finger to a rigid point, and then impale her pussy with it. Miss Harper gives a wracking gasp at this forceful violation, but her physical response is to arch her hips apart and thrust her pelvis forwards at me, and she needs no words to communicate her aching desire for more rough treatment. I pump my finger in and out of her vagina half a dozen times, swift and hard, feeling her looseness and wetness, and she begins to shudder and quake.
‘You lezzie cunt!’ I snarl at her, knowing how much hearing the dirty words spill from my sweet lips turns her on; ‘You fucking lesbo cunt-bitch, you dirty dyke! You want it, don’t you, you slit-slut! You want me to do you – well, you shitty cunt, I’m sure gonna fucking do you, oh yeah, do you so hard, bitch, I’m gonna fuck you so hard!’
She gives an incoherent throaty cry, and I can hear the surge of arousal in her husky tone. However, I have no intention of letting the mature woman have an orgasm yet, and I withdraw my finger before she is even half-way there, ignoring her wail of frustration. Instead, my grip returns to her upper arms, and I roughly haul Miss Harper forwards until she is forced to collapse across her own kitchen table. She is wondrously sexy sight, sprawled defencelessly face downwards with her tits flopped out of their bra and squashed against the pine wooden table-top by the weight of her body, her ass sticking out over the table-edge and her feet at full stretch just touching the floor. With her black skirt still up around her waist and her panties now slid down to just above her knees, her wonderful shapely butt is exquisitely framed by the deep lace-trimmed black suspender belt around her midriff and the traditional-style black stockings that its straps are holding up. Between these, the meaty folds at the base of her naked cunt are fully exposed to view – and completely vulnerable.
I have no hesitation: I know just exactly what to give her. Using this better vantage point and angle, I spear two fingers into her pussy, causing her to give a long deep moan of mingled pain and pleasure.
‘You dirty lezzie slut, you fucking cunt-hole’, I shout at her, the abuse getting me further aroused as well; ‘you pussy-licking dyke, I’m gonna have you, you fucking bitch – yeah, I’m gonna take you down so hard, I’m gonna fuck you to pieces!’
As I say this, and without any pause in my relentless pistoning penetrations, I move up closer behind her prone form and use my free hand to flick open the two buttons at the waistband of my grey school skirt, wiggling my hips so that it falls past them to the floor. Now I am exposed from the bottom of my thin plain shirt to my white knee-high socks, and I grind my naked pussy against my teacher’s left buttock and hipbone, selfishly getting myself off whilst I mercilessly finger-fuck her vagina. Miss Harper squirms helplessly on the smooth table-top, her heavy breasts mashed against it, giving little mewling noises as she pushes her pelvis back against my hand, making my penetrations even deeper and more forceful.
I grin with fierce delight, loving every second of having my teacher at my utter sexual disposal, dominating her and using her however it pleases me. Miss Harper may be twice my age, but like any submissive slut, she knows her place and soaks up whatever her domina dishes out – and, amazingly enough, that’s me! No one in my class would dream of this, that our handsome stylish teacher is an owned bitch – and she’s mine, mine, all mine!
I reach forward with my free hand and grasp a large shank of her straight smooth blonde hair, twisting it in my grasp and hauling her head up and backwards. I continue my spate of foul-mouthed abuse whilst I lean back and spank her on the butt really hard, about four times on each ass-cheek, and she wails in distress, her buzz of sexual desire now mingling with the electric shocks of her punishment. Her arms flop across the table-top, finding no purchase, and then she gives a louder shriek as I resume finger-fucking her pussy – now with three fingers, bunching them together to make a rigid column.
When I judge that my lesbian teacher is approaching her threshold, for the second time I frustrate her desire for an orgasm by abruptly ceasing my slamming invasions of her vagina. Instead, I keep my hold on her hair with one hand, and with the other I twist one of her arms up behind her back, trapping her in a half-nelson. Ignoring her broken sob, I pull the dishevelled and semi-fucked teacher to her feet, and shove her towards the doorway that leads to the rest of her house. She has no option but to go where I wish, as my several inches advantage in height gives me leverage and my greater youthful vigour gives me strength that she is powerless to resist.
‘Fucking dyke, I’m gonna have your fucking pussy now, you lesbo cunt, I’m gonna split your slit wide open, I’m gonna fucking crucify you, lezzie bitch!’
Then, starting her off with a hard smack on her ass, I propel the staggering teacher into her bedroom, where the bed has been prepared with just a bare sheet (in a nice shade of mid-blue) and two matching pillows. I push her sharply against its side, so that momentum carries her forwards and she falls across its width, her shriek muffled when her face smacks down onto the mattress. She makes no resistance as I roll her over onto her back and then almost jump on top of her, straddling her chest, squashing her full breasts between my thighs and grinding my pussy against one of her erect nipples. For a moment, I enjoy the sensations this gives, but then I shift forward across her upper chest and slap my dripping cunt down upon her mouth.
The bitch is expecting this – her lips are already parted, her tongue questing outwards, as my parted labia mash down on her. She wriggles her tongue into my cleft, working at me with a frantic lust-filled energy that is boosted further when I reach behind me and once again maul her breasts and yank hard on her tits. I hear her moans in response, but muffled by her mouthful of schoolgirl pussy. Miss Harper is a good cunt-eater – she told me once that she reckons she has eaten the pussies of more than a hundred women, although this was mainly in her school and college days, and in her early 20s when she actively cruised the lesbian bars looking for one-night stands. She may have had only a couple of sexual partners in the last five years, and an arid desert of months without anything between her last girlfriend and me, but she certainly hasn’t lost her knack. Within moments, my subservient teacher gives me my first orgasm of today’s fuckathon – the first of several.
With a pleased smirk, I lift my crotch off her face, enjoying her dazed expression and how she looks with her blonde hair tousled and my pussy-juice streaked across her cheeks and chin. Oh, if only the other girls in the class could see her now, sprawled under me, her bra and skirt both bunched around her waist, her large well-shaped breasts flopping free, her smooth-shaven cunt exposed and its gash pinkly glistening, they would be amazed ... and maybe it would turn some of them on ... maybe it would turn Katie on ... I wonder what it would be like if we double-teamed Miss Harper, if we fucked her stupid together, like a lesbo gang-bang, one of us ramming her pussy-hole with a strap-on and the other mauling her breasts and pinching her tits, then Katie and I switching places for turn after turn, and Miss Harper couldn’t stop us ... maybe we should tie her up first, rope her wrists criss-cross to her ankles so her tits and ass and cunt are totally defenceless and ours to do with whatever we want ... she might beg and plead with us to stop, but I know the slutty bitch wouldn’t mean it, and we’d just do her even more, even harder, we’d fuck her brains out ... aaahh!! shit, the very idea sends hot shivers down my spine, and juices coursing from my pussy ...
The swell of lust that follows these thoughts galvanises me into action again, and I rise from my teacher’s prone body, giving each of her naked breasts quite a sharp slap as I do so. The bitch knows better than to move until instructed, but her eyes avidly follow my bare teenage butt as I stalk across the room, deliberately giving my hips an erotic sway. I reach the set of drawers that is next to her wardrobe, and open the top one. Yes, exactly where it should be is my favourite implement of them all – a fat and long plastic dildo in a strap-on harness. This one has a special extra feature that I love – as well as the hard ribbed rod that projects eight inches out from the front, there is an inner-mounted dildo, of similar diameter but shorter in length, which gets inserted into the vagina of the wearer of the device. Still better, it has a secret weapon, for inside the internal-pointing dildo is a small battery-powered motor which makes it into a very effective vibrator.
I return slowly, and stand between her legs for a long moment, holding the strap-on harness in my right hand and gazing down at Miss Harper’s semi-naked body. Then I reach out with my left hand to grip the gusset of her panties where they dangle at half-mast, caught just above her knees, and swiftly I tug them down over her ankles and cast them aside. My teacher gives a soft, almost pleading moan and, having lost the restriction of the panties, she now swings her legs far apart, thrusting her pelvis upwards as she does so – offering me her cunt, silently begging to be taken again, harder and harder.
Tantalising her, for I want my mature lover to reach a fever pitch of desire and anticipation, I take my time slowly to remove my school tie and then to unbutton my plain white uniform shirt, letting them both fall unheeded to the floor behind me. Miss Harper drinks in the vision that I present to her – a pretty teenager, with deep dark eyes and a neat bob of thick black hair that is cut short to shape around my ears and curl at my collar, and with high and prominent breasts that are encased in a plain white bra, and beyond that wearing nothing else except my white knee-high school regulation stockings and plain shoes, so that my bare cunt juts out above her like the bow of an Amazonian war galley, edged with close-cut curls of my jet-black pubic hair. One thing on which we both agree is that a girl or woman looks much sexier when only half-stripped than she does when fully naked, and now we are both proof of that. This is why I keep on my bra and my knee-high socks, and this is why I have left so many of Miss Harper’s clothes still on her body – she looks so delectable with her empty bra cups around her belly-button, with her black skirt a crumpled strip of fabric encircling her waist, and still wearing her sexy wide black gauze-and-lace suspender belt, sheer traditional stockings and sharp heels, and yet with her cunt and tits fully exposed and at my mercy ... if I have any of such a thing, which in my present lust-fuelled state is very unlikely!
I feel so vibrantly alive in this moment – what black-haired babe wouldn’t want to have a blonde bitch utterly submissive to her, what pretty teenager wouldn’t want to ram a rod into a hot mature cunt, what sexy schoolgirl wouldn’t want to fuck the living daylights out of her big-titted teacher? I am in heaven ... no, I am beyond heaven, I am in the place where the angels get to go if they have been very, very good. My nostrils flare with lust, and I reach forwards and run the nail of my index finger down the parted furrow of my teacher’s pudenda from the top to the bottom, making sweat sheen her forehead and her chest as I arouse her to the point of almost painful anticipation. As I run my finger back upwards again, sliding it inside her vaginal crack up to the first joint, her gasps turn into broken supplications:
‘Oh! Oh, fuck, Chrissie ... Oh, Christine, darling, aaaahh! my sweet, please ... fuck me, Chrissie, you gotta fuck me ... aaaah, migod, Chrissie, honey, please, please!! Fuck me real hard, so hard, rape me, you gottaaaaaaahhh! oh, shit, fuckme, please ... Chrissie, my angel, oh! you demon! ... Chrissie, do me, take me, c’mon, I can’t wait any more, for Christ’s sake, Chrissie – FUCK ME! FUCK ME!!’
As she pleads for me to take her, my lesbian teacher twists and writhes on the bed, gripping her tits in her hands and thrusting them up at me as an offering, as a bribe to shaft her cunt with the strap-on, to blow her away into the orgasm that she is so desperately close to. I narrow my eyes and she swallows, falling silent as I step between the straps of the dildo harness and pull it up to nestle just below my crotch. I use the fingers of my right hand to part my well-lubricated labia, and then with my left hand I slide the inner dildo into my vagina, in the process nudging the switch of the internal vibrator to the ‘on’ position. I feel it starting to throb with a slow rhythm as I work it further into me, until it has slid all the way home and the faceplate of the dildo is pressed firmly against my pussy lips. Only then do I tighten the buckles on the strap that goes around my waist and the two others that loop around my upper thighs, fixing the dildo firmly in place to my pelvis. I take a moment to rub my hand roughly over my schoolteacher’s slick pussy, and she watches saucer-eyed as I rub her fluids down the length of the dildo’s projecting lance to lubricate it. Then, after a loaded few seconds of consideration, I give her my orders:
‘Roll over, you dirty bitch, c’mon – you lezzie filthy pussy-slut, roll over, and stick your sloppy cunt up in the air – I’m gonna drill you so fucking deep and hard, yeah, I’m gonna doggy-fuck you like the fucking bitch you are, oh yeah!’
Miss Harper gives a soft whimper of anticipation, and moves with alacrity to take up the position as commanded, for it is one that she now knows well, in which over the last few weeks I have given her some of the most thrilling fucks that she has ever had. My teacher rolls over to one side and then rises onto her hands and knees, with her face turned away and her ripe ass towards me, sticking out in mid-air over the edge of the bed. Then she puts her face down on the mattress, with her heavy tits squashed and pooling under her, and she reaches backwards between her legs and grasps each of them just above the knee – which has the effect of bracing her for my assault, pulling her thighs apart and presenting her pussy in the most accessible and vulnerable position.
It is a sight worth seeing, and I savour it for a moment, partly for my own pleasure and partly because I know how much this further wait will tease and entice her – for has she strict orders (which she knows from painful experience to obey) not to look back over her shoulder, and so she has no idea and will get no warning of when I decide to slam the dildo into her quivering wet hole. I admire yet again the wide arch of her crotch and the ripe folds of flesh of her Venus mound, as I relish my power over my delightfully humbled and supplicant teacher – there is an incredible thrill in having a mature experienced woman of twice my age utterly submissive to me like this. Don’t tell me that there is any hormone-filled teenage schoolgirl who would not love to be in my shoes right now, to have at her mercy a sexy adult woman teacher, dishevelled, half-stripped, her bare tits flopping loose, her smart skirt jerked up to her waist, her ripe ass shivering in fearful tension, and her naked pussy gaping and glistening, just waiting to be raped by a dildo’s fat ribbed rod.
‘Fuck you, ya bitch! Fucking take it, cunt!’ I scream, but she has no time to prepare herself, for as I shriek the first word, I suddenly grab her hips and slam forwards with my whole weight, ramming the plastic phallus into her vaginal passage for its full length in one violent searing invasion. Her scream of sexual shock and agonised submission mingles with my furious yell of triumphant penetration, but there is no doubt that she wants this, that I have nailed my bitch yet again. Miss Harper’s butt starts humping frantically backwards in eager response, parting her ass-cheeks even further, opening up her pudenda and giving my repeated thrusts added pile-driving depth and volcanic impact as she lurches back against them, moaning and groaning in her lust.
The slut, she soaks everything up, just as hard as I can deal it out to her. Her eyes are glazed and saliva drools from her half-open mouth, whilst she gasps out incoherent phrases, most of which seem to consist of various fragments of ‘harder’, ‘fuck me’, ‘Chrissie’, and ‘rape me’, jumbled up together in different orders. Meanwhile, the vibrator in the internal dildo is working its magic upon me, driving me into a sexual frenzy, and I bang my teacher’s pussy harder and still harder, putting all my fierce pride and youthful energy into every swivel of my hips. I’m a sporty athletic girl, a regular tennis player, and with my strong arms and legs, when I give her my all, you’d better believe that she really gets hammered, each impact so relentlessly hard that if she wasn’t fully braced and I didn’t also have a firm grip above her hips, she would get knocked right over every time.
I am gasping for breath myself from the vigour and pace of my exertions, sweat slicking my breasts and stomach, with rivulets trickling down between my pelvis and the inside of the dildo’s faceplate and mingling stickily with the juices dripping from my cunt. The impact of my penetrations shakes my bra-straps loose from my shoulders and they tumble down to my elbows, sending my tits swinging free, the nipples so aroused that even the motion of air across them is like a braising with sandpaper.
I give a sudden sharp cry and almost fall on top of Miss Harper, taken unawares as the internal vibrator gives me a mini-orgasm sooner than I had expected. I clutch at her sexy ass to steady myself, kneading the firm flesh of her wide-boned butt-cheeks, and gasping for a second to regain my breath. My teacher, misunderstanding the cause of the pause, gives a broken wail of pleading anguish:
‘Aaaaggghh! No, Chrissie, oooooh no, don’t stop! Oh, God! Chrissie, please do me – fuck me so hard, girl, oh! please, Chrissie, don’t stop ... nail me, slam me, have me, rape me, oh please!’ she cries in wracking sobs, driven to extremis in her passion and the terrible need that takes over on the cusp of a climax. But I am recovered, more in control despite the continuous pulsations of the vibrator in my own cunt, which is driving me on to my own zenith.
The release of the mini-climax and the few seconds to recover have renewed my energy, and Miss Harper shrieks in exultation as I resume my thrusts into her cavernous cunt-hole with redoubled vigour, whilst adding a little twisting motion of my hips so that the ribbed dildo rasps along the walls of her vaginal tube on the way in, and then differently on the withdrawal.
Now I’m as sweat-soaked as she is, panting loudly and burning up to a stratospheric climax like a ballistic missile, for nothing will now prevent me from reaching my target and exploding us both into shards of flaming intensity. I seize her hair and use it to yank her backwards like the reins of a horse, arching her back, and her big round tits flap wildly as they dangle from her chest. I use my free hand and longer reach to grab one of her breasts, and I squeeze it savagely as I shift up the pace to a final frenzy of pumping and pulverise her pussy with the strap-on.
‘You fucking bitch! You cunt-sucking slut, you fucking cunt!’ I rant at her, shaking her head mercilessly with the hand that has a vice-like grip upon her straw-blonde hair, and with the other pinching her tender swollen tit between my thumb and forefinger; ‘Take it, you dyke slut, take it hard, you cunt! NOW! FUCKING CUM NOW, BITCH, YOU WHORING LEZZIE CUNT! CUM NOWWW!!!’
And she does, and my conquest is completed by the hoarse scream that is ripped from my teacher’s throat whilst her whole body convulses as if electrocuted – as indeed she is, along every nervous fibre in her body. She shakes and trembles in the aftermath, and just at that very second the internal vibrator inside the dildo makes me cream my pussy with cum. I moan and release my teacher’s hips in order to pinch my own bare tits, as a tidal flood of orgasms ripples through me. Meanwhile, Miss Harper gives a shaky sob, and her fuck-shattered body slumps downwards in collapse onto the mattress. This process slides her vagina down the ribbed length of the dildo, triggering another wailing and bucking orgasm, before the plastic rod emerges from her pussy-lips with a wet sucking plop, and she sprawls on the bed like a puppet whose strings have been cut with a single undoing slash.
For a moment, I remain where I am, kneeling between her spread thighs, with my bra now fallen around my waist, and I take a few shaky shallow breaths. My God, but I do like taking her like this, almost savagely, pouring foul-mouthed abuse on the teacher whom I have to obey so demurely in school, grabbing her and hauling her about, pummelling her pussy with the strap-on, fucking her to the limit and beyond – oh, yes, I do like it so very much, so very much indeed ... and, fortunately, so does she!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Of course, it wasn’t like this right at the start, and for a moment my mind goes back to the beginning. Miss Harper likes younger – and young-looking – women, but never ever before has she laid a finger on a girl under eighteen years old, never mind one of her own students. For a two years, up to about ten months ago, she had a college student living with her – I’ve seen the pictures, and Lynette was a slender baby-faced cutie who looked at least a couple of years younger than she was, or at least she did until you saw the prominent rounded swell of her breasts. Her naive parents thought that she had found nice quiet lodgings for her second and third years at university, never dreaming that the smart and polite school-teacher who happened to have a spare room to rent had picked up their pretty daughter in a lesbian bar, or that Lynette paid only a peppercorn rent (saving the rest of her money), and earned her keep, to both their full and eager satisfaction, with her tongue, tits and clit, spending every night in Miss Harper’s king-size double-bed.
However, all good things must come to an end, and ten months ago Lynette completed her degree, graduated, and left for a job working for a big company overseas (she was a languages student, just what they were looking for). For several months after that, Miss Harper was quite low – she had really fallen for Lynette, missed her badly, and just didn’t feel like trawling the lesbian bars and clubs to seek out another pretty young woman who looked like she was just 18, if even that. However, after a few more months, Miss Harper started getting really horny, and that’s when she began to feel the first stirrings of temptation about the girls she was teaching – or in fact, about just one girl, and that was me.
I think there were several reasons for it, the first being that I look strikingly like a younger version of Lynette – I have a similar elfin shape of face and cut of my thick black hair, a similarly slender body with a tasty jut in the butt, and most of all, I also have above-average sized breasts which look even larger than they are because of my slim frame. Finally, apart from our generous bust size, we both look young and (so misleadingly!) innocent, with twenty year-old Lynette appearing to be just about eighteen, whilst I look like the just-turned-sixteen that I actually am. There was no doubt that this combination of my looks and age really pressed all of Miss Harper’s buttons, and I’m not surprised that she gave in to desire and broke the rule that she had previously strictly upheld in ten years as a teacher.
Even so, I’m convinced there was an additional factor which was probably decisive. I believe that, in some way, without consciously realising it, Miss Harper tuned in to the fact that I’m a lesbian, and would gladly be seduced by her. I can’t remember when I realised that girls – or really, grown women – were the only thing that interested me sexually, but it was a long time ago; certainly, by the time that I was thirteen, I was very fully aware of it. I didn’t mind at all; I didn’t dislike boys, but not wanting to bother with the on-off tempests of the teenage dating circuit was a merciful release and gave me the time and energy for so many other things. However, what was intensely frustrating was that I could not reveal my orientation to anyone, that I had no idea of how to find a girlfriend, and that I didn’t dare take the risk of making a sexual pass at any of my school friends. So I was probably radiating out subliminal signals of suppressed sexuality and frustrated desire to any lesbian who came close enough, as Miss Harper increasingly did.
I began to sense her eyes on me more often during lessons, and felt that there was something different in how she regarded me – and I also noticed, or thought I noticed, that when she glanced my way, her gaze would slip from my face down to my bust, and rest there for several seconds. I admit that in response I preened a little, thrusting my tits more upwards and forwards into view. Indeed, to help this effort I purchased some bras which, whilst keeping to school regulations regarding full-cup coverage in plain white fabric, nevertheless gave added push-up lift and emphasised my already substantial curves and cleavage. I also started to fantasise about Miss Harper, diddling my pussy at night with two-fingers and imagining that she was the one doing it to me instead. It made a change from dreaming up lust-soaked scenarios with various teenage TV actresses and pop starlets, which I knew were never going to happen – for I began to wonder if this might, if it actually, possibly, just might ... and that made me come with drenching intensity.
Then, at last, about three months ago, after a lesson at the end of a Thursday afternoon which I had struggled to follow (admittedly, mainly because she had been wearing those amazing tight grey slacks that clung to her hips and exposed the wide arch of her crotch), I lingered behind as the rest of class left, intending to ask her to clarify some points about the homework that she had just set. Miss Harper began to explain this, hesitated, looked at the clock – now showing seven minutes past the end of the school day, looked at me again (really, at my chest again), and then said softly:
‘You are finding these equations a bit difficult, Christine, aren’t you? It is difficult to explain them in just a minute or two ... but, I could, perhaps ... that is, if you really wanted to find out ...’
‘Oooh, Miss Harper – yes, I do! I really do want to find out!’ I gasped with almost comic eagerness, for if there was any chance of where this might be leading, I wanted to give her every encouragement.
‘Well, yes ... well!’ she said, her smile now less tentative, perhaps even a little hungry, ‘well, I could, that is ... I have to get home just now, but ... if you want to come to my house, I could show you ...’
‘Oh, yes, Miss Harper, yes, I’d love to, that would be great, just great – thank you!’ I almost babbled.
‘Of course, I shouldn’t really’, she said pensively, and my heart lurched, but then an angelic choir sang in my ears as she added: ‘it would be a special favour, Christine – you must promise to keep it our little secret and tell no one – not your friends, not even your parents.’
‘Yes, Miss, of course, I won’t breathe a word, I promise’, I happily agreed, ‘but I hope I can thank you somehow, maybe find some way to ... show you my appreciation, to ... do something for you?’
For a second she looked at me appraisingly, and I wondered if I had been too blatant ... but, as I have since learned, in a pick-up there is almost no such thing as too blatant, for the failures are nearly always due to daring too little, not to venturing too much.
Then her eyes fell again to the thrusting curves of my youthful breasts, and now she no longer tried to disguise where she was staring, or the avid gleam in her eyes. I straightened my shoulders a little, almost proferring them up to her, and Miss Harper looked me in the eye.
‘Mmm, yes, Christine ... yes, I’m sure there is something you can do for me ... with me ...’
Miss Harper picked up her bag and coat, and we walked together to where her car was parked – almost all of the teachers had already left; there were only three other vehicles still there, and no one around to see us depart together. I carefully climbed into the front passenger seat – carefully, because I wanted to make sure that my school uniform skirt rode up my thighs as I sat down, seemingly by accident, to expose my legs and a sight of the crotch of my plain white panties. Sure enough the manoeuvre worked, and as Miss Harper leaned across to clip in her seatbelt, her eyes fell upon my lap and she gave a small intake of breath in appreciation. Hearing this, I slightly widened my legs, showing even more of my inner thighs and panties.
‘Seatbelt on, dear’, purred my teacher, reaching across me to pull it into place, and then running her finger down the inside of the cross-strap that lay diagonally between my breasts – seemingly in innocent assistance, but giving her the first contact with the mammary mounds that attracted her so much.
I can barely recall the ten-minute drive to her house, as my head was lost in a fog of hope and desire. When we arrived, she parked about thirty yards from where her home turned out to be, and she took me by the route of the alley-way to her rear garden gate, then to the back door, and then into the kitchen – to this day, I have never yet entered or left her house by its front door.
On that momentous day, I followed her into the kitchen and put my backpack and jacket down on a chair where she indicated. Then she took my hand and held it for a moment in silence, during which we just looked at each other, until she nodded once, as if in confirmation, and towed me behind her directly to her bedroom, closing the door after we had entered.
My heart sang, for this was no place for discussing quadratic equations or homework assignments – this was a bedroom, and that is a place for fucking or sleeping, and I was pretty sure that my teacher did not think that either of us needed a nap. My joy must have shone like a beacon from my eyes and face, for Miss Harper lost her last edginess and laughed openly, saying:
‘Oh, Christine ... sweet, beautiful, sexy Christine ... you are a joy to behold!’
And with that, she folded me into her arms, and kissed my parted lips. My arms went around her back, and I enjoyed for the first time ever the incredible sensation of my breasts pillowing against the soft resilience of another woman, my hard aroused nipples pressing against hers and then sinking into her smooth flesh.
What followed was conventional enough – we slid down onto the bed and lay alongside each other, we kissed some more, we murmured sweet nothings and we caressed each other’s bodies, running our hands with particular delight over the chest and butt of the other female. At one point, Miss Harper quickly discarded the burgundy red jumper that she had been wearing in combination with the grey slacks, and I had my first sight of her large firm U-shaped breasts encased in a simple and elegant half-cup lime green bra.
Emboldened by this enticing sight, I tugged open the buttons of her grey slacks and pulled down the zip, and then slid a hand inside, questing for her panties and the Venus mound that I had seen so erotically outlined by the thin linen fabric. Miss Harper raised an appreciative eyebrow at my brazenness, kicked off her shoes and then raised her hips off the mattress so that I could ease the trousers down her legs and slide them off completely. I gazed in wonder at what was revealed – my first sight in sexual arousal of a grown woman’s pelvis, her sex barely covered by a pair of thin lacy bikini panties in matching colour with her bra.
In order to remove Miss Harper’s trousers, I had risen to a sitting position, beside her right hip. My teacher reached out, cupped my chin in her hands for a moment, and then rubbed her thumb gently across my pursed lips – which has a very erogenous effect. Her fingers fell to my throat, and I knelt transfixed as she loosened and removed my striped school tie and then unbuttoned my shirt from the collar to the navel. Tugging it open, she reached inside with both hands to grasp the smooth cups of my plain white bra, and I gave a gasp as my maturing breasts were for the first time ever fondled by another woman in sexual desire.
Encouraged by my evident pleasure at her actions, my teacher slipped my shirt from my shoulders and then reached around me to unsnap the backband of my bra, and deftly she removed both items. For just a moment, I was self conscious, very aware that I was naked above the waist, that my breasts were swinging free, and that my tits were rigidly sticking out and almost throbbing. Miss Harper had the ideal solution to that, and she propped herself up on one elbow as she steered my nearest nipple into her expert mouth. She gave each breast equal attention, making me almost swoon from the erotic sensations that flowed from her licking and sucking and even – aaaahhh! – gentle nibbling with her teeth.
I looked down at Miss Harper’s panties, where I could see the shape of her slit, and with a trembling hand I smoothed lightly along it, pressing the soft material into a cameltoe effect. My teacher gave a delighted shiver at my touch, and then told me to remove her panties and – which gave me an electric thrill – to kiss her pussy. I swallowed, but moved to do her bidding without a shred of hesitation – for this was what I had always wanted, and at long last it was coming true.
As soon as I had peeled Miss Harper’s lacy panties down her legs and over her feet, she shifted position to part her thighs, giving me my first entrancing view of adult female pudenda. I thought that my mature teacher was the most incredibly sexy sight in the whole world, as she lay sprawled on her back, stripped down to only her bra and a pair of black hold-up stockings, and with her cunt openly exposed. I wonder now, looking back on it – was that the first hint, the first moment of her submissiveness to me, and my first taste of the heady flavour of dominance?
Miss Harper looked up at me with half-glazed eyes and a sultry expression of wanton desire that thrilled me even more, and reached down with her right hand to spread her puffy pink labia apart.
‘Christine ... dear, darling, Christine ... if you truly want this, if this is the life for you, then don’t worry, Chrissie – your secret is safe with me, because it is part of my secret, and that must be kept safe – but you must promise me, Chrissie, you must promise me that whatever happens here ... whatever we do together ... there will be no mention of it ever to anyone else, not ever, for any reason, do you promise?
I couldn’t help thinking that it was a little late to ask this, given our already half-undressed state of love-making, but of course it was more than fine by me, and I hastened to give her every assurance of my silence and discretion. After all, as I told her, I could not afford for any of my family or friends to suspect my lesbian nature (although, as I said this, I did make a brief mental reservation not to include Katie in this ban – of course, I wouldn’t tell her anything about Miss Harper, but I might give her some easy, even obvious, opportunities to make a move on me, if she was so inclined as to want to ... as I was beginning to think and hope that she just might be).
I followed up my promise of silence by sealing it with a kiss – in this case, not on the mouth, but by leaning over and licking my teacher’s pussy avidly from end to end. It was my first taste of cunt, and at once it became my favourite flavour of all time. I gained in confidence and licked more boldly and firmly all around her Venus mound, and in response Miss Harper moaned and spread her legs wide apart.
‘Oh, Chrissie, that’s good – that feels so good’, she gasped, ‘oh, babe! you’re a natural ... that feels wonderful!’
My crouching posture made my breasts swing free and emphasised their rounded fullness, and Miss Harper reached under my chest to stroke and squeeze them. This had a delightful, electrifying effect, and with a whimper I plunged my tongue deep into her moist pink gash and squirmed it around. I didn’t have any real idea of what to do, so I just followed the policy of being as vigorous and enthusiastic as possible, and hoping that some of what I was doing would have the right effect.
It certainly did! After just a moment, Miss Harper gasped and I felt a tremor run through her, and a sudden wetness flushed her pussy, leaving a slightly salty and tangy taste in my mouth. I raised my head for a second and gazed up the length of her body, past the upthrust mounds encased in her bra, and saw to my delight an expression of stunned amazement on my teacher’s face.
‘Fuck!’ she murmured, ‘I’ve just come – and I never come that easily, never! You ARE a natural, Chrissie, really and truly, you are!’
Then, with a smile, she showed me another wonder. She gave a pat on my right hip, indicating that I should swing round, and at once I realised what she had in mind. I turned a quick half-circle, still on my hands and knees, and ended up with my butt in the air in front of her face, and my head poised above her pelvis. Miss Harper ran her hands appreciatively up my legs, starting from my knees and then sliding up the outside of my thighs, under my school uniform skirt. When she reached my hips, with a flourish she tossed the skirt upwards so that it fell over my lower back, draping downwards and leaving my panties fully exposed. My teacher stroked my butt for a few seconds, kneading my ass-cheeks in a firm and arousing grip.
‘I want to eat you’, she whispered, a hoarse note of desire giving her voice a touch of vibrato; ‘I want to make you come for me!’
She slid her fingers across the gusset of my white panties, making me shudder with anticipation, and then she twisted the strip of damp fabric and tugged it to one side – and for the first time, a woman took my cunt in her hand, squeezed my mound, ran her fingers over my pussy, and then delicately parted my labia and slipped her fingertips into my vagina. I gasped and squealed and moaned at the incredible eroticism of the sensations caused by her touch, which were magnified by the knowledge that my teacher – my teacher!! &
