mr_rippley
good boy
- Joined
- Nov 30, 2006
- Posts
- 3,473
I realize that the teacher/student seduction genre is probably overdone, but this is my first try and I've always had a fascination with this sort of thing- the sensations of a mature, commanding and extremely feminine presence.
anyway, here goes:
I did my best, I really did. I tried to live up to our strict new teacher's standards but I slipped up. Excited to impress the imposing woman looming over the front of the class with a long pencil skirt striped silk blouse and raven-black hair piled atop her head, I spoke out of turn. She asked a question, an easy one, and before I could stop myself the words just spilled out of my mouth.
"Argentina!" I said (shouted).
Oh, dear. She stopped and slowly rested back on her black patent heels. She turned her shoulder back my direction and arched an eyebrow- an elegant arc of black sharp and hard like a dagger. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. The edge of her collar dipped a bit in the jostling, enough to expose just a hint of her smooth cocoa skin.
"I-I'm so sorry, maam," I pleaded. "So sorry."
But then she did nothing. Even though she was so new, she could already tell that making me sweat it out was so much worse than punishing me right there. The rest of the afternoon, I sat and squirmed in my seat, dreading the end of the day. In my mind I could feel her face bearing down on me. She seemed aware of it, too, and kept glancing dissapointedly in my direction.
At last the bell rang and the room emptied out. She did not tell me to stay after but I knew instinctively that I should linger. I sat for some time waiting for some sign of what she expected me to do, what would happen next. I could hear the other teachers leaving, the hallways emptying into the noisy street below.
"You," she said sternly, pointing at the chair nearest her desk.
I stood and obediently walked slowly to the seat. I folded my hands stared up at her with big dewey eyes in hopes of setting the right impression, but it wasn't enough. The bow of her red lips turned up into a subtle smirk. She was waiting, and appeared ready to wait forever.
"I spoke out of turn," I replied. "I am- I am sorry."
"Wrong!" she shouted, smacking her ruler down on her desk with a crack. "I saw you today during the history lesson. I saw what you did with your hands when you thought no one could see."
My whole body convulsed and I suddenly felt hot and weak as the adrenaline drained away. She could tell what I was thinking as she walked through the aisles of desks. She could sense the stiffness of my body, the heat of my groin as she approached my desk and her silk brushed past my skin.
She knew everything.
"Do you like doing that?" she asked. "Does it feel good?"
I would not answer. It sounded like a trap and it almost certainly was.
"You know that it's shameful, what you do to your body," she said angrily. "It will destroy you from the inside."
"I'm sorry maam."
"Don't 'I'm sorry' me, young man!" her hazel eyes flared. "Your soul needs to be saved, demons exorcised."
What transpired was a long pause, an aching moment during which she stared cooly at me as if deciding what she would do next. I'd never felt like that before, used and touched by a person's gaze. I drank it in like the coolest, purest water I'd ever tasted.
"Stand up," she said.
Suddenly I became aware that standing was out of the question. She insisted, knowing full well what my body was doing and how much it would humiliate me. With sheer force of will I stood, my erection thick and hot against my thigh. If it had been just an hour earlier I would have died of embarrassment, and for a moment I thought that I had.
Rather than rail on me again, she gracefully smoothed out the back of her skirt and sat at her chair, whipping it sideways violently so that her face, that face, was mere inches from my throbbing cock.
"Bend," she said. I could feel the weight of her voice as a tingling at the base of my testicles. I nearly buckled at the knees.
Steading myself with a hand on her taut thigh, I poured my shaking body over her lap. Her skirt shimmered in the fading light, and that close up I could see the mesh of her hosiery, feel the clips of her stockings. I was so lost in the dreamy glow of her femininity that I nearly missed the first slap on my buttocks. Full palm, a direct hit.
"You will learn," she said.
Then another. The burn of it settling in only after the subsequent hit landed. To get through the pain, I thought of her stockings again, the curve of her bosom. I thought of the growing stiffness of my penis against her body. As my body rocked forward with each blow and slowly slid back, I could feel the shape her her leg with my cock and it was the only thing in the world, the whole of existence.
I pushed, ever so slightly, with my hips to feel her flesh a bit more. I was at the peak of ecstasy when she stopped. Furious she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up.
"You will learn," she chanted.
She pointed at my pants, and I guessed she meant me to remove them. I pulled them down slowly, and my cock leapt out like some sort of novelty toy. I felt so weak suddenly, as though I had no blood in my body.
As I stood there dumbfounded, she reached up and unbuttoned her blouse- but only a bit. It was just enough for my eager eyes to see through to her crisp white bra and chocolate flesh inside. She was still stilling and looking as though it was my turn to move, so I returned to the spanking position. As I did so, she flipped up her skirt's edge so I came into direct contact with her silky legs.
A few spanks later and I couldn't take it any longer. I was about to cum.
"No," she said in a very odd tone of voice. "You haven't earned that yet."
I got up, rubbing my cock on the silk of her blouse as I did so.
"No no," she tisked and lifted up her skirt a bit more. Unsure what to do next but terrified to ask I climbed underneath and found her ornate black panties. I touched her, petting awkwardly at first but learning from the movement of her hips as I went. She grew warmer and more fragrant.
"Tear them," she said urgently. "Now."
I reached up under the panties and ripped at the seam with little luck. Frustrated with her pupil's poor progress, she thrust her hand into her panties, furiously rubbing at her patch. Eager to please, I tore the rest of the way and freed her pussy of its constraint. Apparently, pleased she tousled my hair with her strong wet fingers.
As she spread her legs the light improved and suddenly I could see her glorious furry womanliness before me. It took my breath away for a moment, the way it seethed and writhed. I approached it hesitatingly, and kissed it.
"Again," she said insistently.
I leaned in and licked her straight up the center as her lips unfolded like a summer flower for me. The taste was unusual, but not unpleasant. In my state, I actually craved the flavor of her. I stroked her and licked her and, upon her urging, even bit her clit more than once.
Again the hand appeared, those lovely blood red nails. This time she was grabbing my head and stuffing my head into her pussy, jamming my tongue and wiggling fingers deeper and deeper into her.
"You may," she said. "Stand, please."
When I straightened she appeared differently. Her hair was disheveled but still piled on top with a chopstick-like pin. Her legs were open and her chest was exposed. Without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed my cock and rubbed it against her cheek slowly. Looking me dead in the eye, she reached out her pink tongue and touched it to my flesh. I nearly exploded as she wrapped her pillowy lips around me. I felt at her breasts as she gently tickled my young hairless balls.
Suddenly I pulled out, scared to cum.
"You may," she said. "And you will."
She pressed her breasts together and around my cock, stroking me off. I cam thunderously on her chest and collapsed to my knees in exhaustion and pleasure.
For the first time ever, I saw her smile as she buttoned herself and grabbed her coat.
"And don't do it again!" she shouted, unable to stifle her laughter.
I walked home with the oddest smile on my face.
anyway, here goes:
I did my best, I really did. I tried to live up to our strict new teacher's standards but I slipped up. Excited to impress the imposing woman looming over the front of the class with a long pencil skirt striped silk blouse and raven-black hair piled atop her head, I spoke out of turn. She asked a question, an easy one, and before I could stop myself the words just spilled out of my mouth.
"Argentina!" I said (shouted).
Oh, dear. She stopped and slowly rested back on her black patent heels. She turned her shoulder back my direction and arched an eyebrow- an elegant arc of black sharp and hard like a dagger. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. The edge of her collar dipped a bit in the jostling, enough to expose just a hint of her smooth cocoa skin.
"I-I'm so sorry, maam," I pleaded. "So sorry."
But then she did nothing. Even though she was so new, she could already tell that making me sweat it out was so much worse than punishing me right there. The rest of the afternoon, I sat and squirmed in my seat, dreading the end of the day. In my mind I could feel her face bearing down on me. She seemed aware of it, too, and kept glancing dissapointedly in my direction.
At last the bell rang and the room emptied out. She did not tell me to stay after but I knew instinctively that I should linger. I sat for some time waiting for some sign of what she expected me to do, what would happen next. I could hear the other teachers leaving, the hallways emptying into the noisy street below.
"You," she said sternly, pointing at the chair nearest her desk.
I stood and obediently walked slowly to the seat. I folded my hands stared up at her with big dewey eyes in hopes of setting the right impression, but it wasn't enough. The bow of her red lips turned up into a subtle smirk. She was waiting, and appeared ready to wait forever.
"I spoke out of turn," I replied. "I am- I am sorry."
"Wrong!" she shouted, smacking her ruler down on her desk with a crack. "I saw you today during the history lesson. I saw what you did with your hands when you thought no one could see."
My whole body convulsed and I suddenly felt hot and weak as the adrenaline drained away. She could tell what I was thinking as she walked through the aisles of desks. She could sense the stiffness of my body, the heat of my groin as she approached my desk and her silk brushed past my skin.
She knew everything.
"Do you like doing that?" she asked. "Does it feel good?"
I would not answer. It sounded like a trap and it almost certainly was.
"You know that it's shameful, what you do to your body," she said angrily. "It will destroy you from the inside."
"I'm sorry maam."
"Don't 'I'm sorry' me, young man!" her hazel eyes flared. "Your soul needs to be saved, demons exorcised."
What transpired was a long pause, an aching moment during which she stared cooly at me as if deciding what she would do next. I'd never felt like that before, used and touched by a person's gaze. I drank it in like the coolest, purest water I'd ever tasted.
"Stand up," she said.
Suddenly I became aware that standing was out of the question. She insisted, knowing full well what my body was doing and how much it would humiliate me. With sheer force of will I stood, my erection thick and hot against my thigh. If it had been just an hour earlier I would have died of embarrassment, and for a moment I thought that I had.
Rather than rail on me again, she gracefully smoothed out the back of her skirt and sat at her chair, whipping it sideways violently so that her face, that face, was mere inches from my throbbing cock.
"Bend," she said. I could feel the weight of her voice as a tingling at the base of my testicles. I nearly buckled at the knees.
Steading myself with a hand on her taut thigh, I poured my shaking body over her lap. Her skirt shimmered in the fading light, and that close up I could see the mesh of her hosiery, feel the clips of her stockings. I was so lost in the dreamy glow of her femininity that I nearly missed the first slap on my buttocks. Full palm, a direct hit.
"You will learn," she said.
Then another. The burn of it settling in only after the subsequent hit landed. To get through the pain, I thought of her stockings again, the curve of her bosom. I thought of the growing stiffness of my penis against her body. As my body rocked forward with each blow and slowly slid back, I could feel the shape her her leg with my cock and it was the only thing in the world, the whole of existence.
I pushed, ever so slightly, with my hips to feel her flesh a bit more. I was at the peak of ecstasy when she stopped. Furious she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up.
"You will learn," she chanted.
She pointed at my pants, and I guessed she meant me to remove them. I pulled them down slowly, and my cock leapt out like some sort of novelty toy. I felt so weak suddenly, as though I had no blood in my body.
As I stood there dumbfounded, she reached up and unbuttoned her blouse- but only a bit. It was just enough for my eager eyes to see through to her crisp white bra and chocolate flesh inside. She was still stilling and looking as though it was my turn to move, so I returned to the spanking position. As I did so, she flipped up her skirt's edge so I came into direct contact with her silky legs.
A few spanks later and I couldn't take it any longer. I was about to cum.
"No," she said in a very odd tone of voice. "You haven't earned that yet."
I got up, rubbing my cock on the silk of her blouse as I did so.
"No no," she tisked and lifted up her skirt a bit more. Unsure what to do next but terrified to ask I climbed underneath and found her ornate black panties. I touched her, petting awkwardly at first but learning from the movement of her hips as I went. She grew warmer and more fragrant.
"Tear them," she said urgently. "Now."
I reached up under the panties and ripped at the seam with little luck. Frustrated with her pupil's poor progress, she thrust her hand into her panties, furiously rubbing at her patch. Eager to please, I tore the rest of the way and freed her pussy of its constraint. Apparently, pleased she tousled my hair with her strong wet fingers.
As she spread her legs the light improved and suddenly I could see her glorious furry womanliness before me. It took my breath away for a moment, the way it seethed and writhed. I approached it hesitatingly, and kissed it.
"Again," she said insistently.
I leaned in and licked her straight up the center as her lips unfolded like a summer flower for me. The taste was unusual, but not unpleasant. In my state, I actually craved the flavor of her. I stroked her and licked her and, upon her urging, even bit her clit more than once.
Again the hand appeared, those lovely blood red nails. This time she was grabbing my head and stuffing my head into her pussy, jamming my tongue and wiggling fingers deeper and deeper into her.
"You may," she said. "Stand, please."
When I straightened she appeared differently. Her hair was disheveled but still piled on top with a chopstick-like pin. Her legs were open and her chest was exposed. Without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed my cock and rubbed it against her cheek slowly. Looking me dead in the eye, she reached out her pink tongue and touched it to my flesh. I nearly exploded as she wrapped her pillowy lips around me. I felt at her breasts as she gently tickled my young hairless balls.
Suddenly I pulled out, scared to cum.
"You may," she said. "And you will."
She pressed her breasts together and around my cock, stroking me off. I cam thunderously on her chest and collapsed to my knees in exhaustion and pleasure.
For the first time ever, I saw her smile as she buttoned herself and grabbed her coat.
"And don't do it again!" she shouted, unable to stifle her laughter.
I walked home with the oddest smile on my face.
