She hurried down the corridor, the scent of “school” jogging her memory of passing through these same hallways as a younger version of herself. Now instead of an armload of books, she toted a briefcase. Instead of fashionably torn jeans and heels, she wore a nicely tailored suit and sensible heels. Instead of running late to class, she was running late to a meeting with her son’s math teacher. How she hated school, still. As she approached room 235, down at the far end of the corridor, the classroom door opened and a couple came out. The woman was biting her lip, and the man wore a fierce scowl. As they passed her, she heard him mutter, his tone aggrieved, “I told her to spend more time on her algebra than at the mall buying bras.” The woman embarrassed “hushshshshs” made her grin. Stepping up to the door, the grin faded, replaced by a straightening of her shoulders as if girding herself for war. In a way, perhaps she was. Taking a calming breath, she stepped inside.
The room was full of student life, papers on the walls, notes on the chalk board, and the impressively huge teacher desk at the front of the class. The man seated behind it was busy writing in a large notebook, ignoring her. She stepped deeper into the room, clearing her throat. Still he didn’t look up.
“Erm…excuse me, Mr. -”
His head lifted and he barked out a terse “you’re Gregory’s mother,” interrupting her. She swallowed. Why did teachers still make her feel like she was in 8th grade, fighting zits and boredom with equal fervor? His quelling stare made her realize that he was still waiting for her reply.
“I…yes. I’m Anna Williams, Gregory’s mom.”
“He’s struggling with algebra this semester.”
“It’s not his forte, no. He’s try–”
“No, he is failing to pay attention in class. His brain seems to be located in his penis, his attention has been focused on another student in my class, one with an impressive set of pectoral growth.”
“Tits. He is fascinated by them. Not that they aren’t impressive, to be sure, but in my class, his attention should be on X’s and Y’s and not C cups.”
She blinked. Had she ever had a teacher be so incredibly blunt before?
He pointed to the chair directly at the side of the desk. It was a power position, she noted, one that she’d often employed at her job. It made her spine straighten, her lips thin as she took note of his game. Moving to the front of the desk, standing tall, she defied his nod towards the chair. A very faint smile crossed his lips. If she hadn’t been glaring at him, she might have missed it. His gaze traveled from her face, dropping slowly down the full length of her, pausing on her own impressive rack. The smile widened, just a fraction, then slipped away. His finger tapped the planbook in front of him.
“Your son has scored moderately well on tests, usually missing a decent grade by a simple misstep.”
It took her a moment to focus on the words. The very obnoxious oogling had unsettled–and to her discomfiture, aroused–her. She blinked twice, her brain catching up to the words.
“So…in other words, he’s not doing poorly, but not up to your exacting standards?”
“In other words, he could be doing much better if he focused on more on algebra and less on cleavage. There are other things that could bring his grade up.”
“You’d allow him to do some extra credit to bring up his grade? OH, gosh, that would be wonderf-”
“I didn’t say that. Come here, Mrs. Williams.”
He pointed to the floor beside him. She frowned, annoyed that he kept interrupting her. Fuck him! She marched around his desk, glared down at him. His hand slipped around her waist, as he leaned forward. His head was between her tits before she could say a word.
Leaning back, he looked at her, not at all put off by her looming over him.
Her mouth opened, closed. His hand was still around her waist.
“On your knees, now. I think you know exactly what needs to happen here to raise that grade.”
His cock was hard, she could see the outline of it against his pants. It was also enormous. The hand around her waist moved off. Cupping his hands behind his head, he leaned back, smiling a wolfish smile. Oh, there was a challenge there. She glanced back at the classroom door. It was half-open, and she could hear the janitor’s cart moving from class to class. She gritted her teeth.
“Bastard,” she hissed, before dropping her briefcase on the chair, shrugging out of her jacket.
“Lose the shirt, the bra.”
It felt like she was stripping off her armor, kneeling there topless, defenseless without her “Bitch Boss” suit on.
She knelt between strong thighs. Looking up, she noted the half-smile again.
“Aren’t you going to…you know. Take it out?”
“It? By “it” I take it that you mean my cock?”
She nodded, blushing.
“Say it. Say it properly. It’s not an “it”. It’s a cock. It’s my cock.”
“Aren’t you going to…take your…cock…out?”
The smile turned raw again, making her shiver.
“Oh no,” he replied, his voice a hot whisper in the quiet room, “that’s part of making the grade, little girl.”
Her hand trembled as she lifted it to tug at his zipper. Her eyes flashed up to meet his quickly, then back down.
“It’s…a little…snug…” She spoke softly.
“I have every faith you’ll figure it out.”
She did. Reaching into his slacks, taking out the huge length of him, in awe and not just a little nervous about this.
“Open the top button. Take out my balls too. Start by licking them. Slowly.”
She wouldn’t look at him now, only focus on the task at hand. If she finished quickly then her son would pass algebra. Her fingers cupped his balls, gently; her head bent to lap softly at the flesh. He smelled, a mix of sweat and urine and that man-scent. Her pussy, she could feel, was intrigued. Dear gods, this was just …wrong. She should tell him to fuck off, go back home. Instead, her lips encircled the head of his shaft.
She’d always liked to suck cock, she reminded herself. This one was a beast, and she hoped she could take it all the way. She wished–somewhere in the darkest naughty place in her mind–that he’d knock all the shit off his desk and fuck her brainless.
Her lips stretched around him. Relaxing her throat, cupping the underside of his penis with her tongue, she pressed her head down a few inches.
“This isn’t working.”
Her mouth popped off his cock and she stared up at him.
“Get the rest of those clothes off.”
He watched, impassive as she glared at him, all the while shedding her skirt, her pantyhose, her shoes. Pausing at her panties, his brow raised. Very clearly he was saying “all”.
“Fine,” she huffed out a breath, slipping the granny panties she wore to work down and off. She could play the nervous woman, but instead, she thrust out her tits, her hip jutted forward. She had a fine body, despite the years it wore, the babies she’d popped out of it. She’d earned every damn line, stretch-mark and soft curve. Fuck him.
“Nice,” he replied, running his hand along the side of her breast, down her belly.
“On the desk. Head hanging over.”
He helped her up, tugging away her hairpins, leaving her long hair hanging down the side of the desk.
“Knees up, spread a little. I want to look at your cunt when I fuck your mouth.”
She didn’t finish the sentence, her mouth filled suddenly with the fullness of his cock. His hips pressed forward, she gagged, feeling the head slip into her throat. He pressed his thumb against the lump showing clearly against the taut skin of her throat.
“My cock. Mmmm. Love the way that looks in you.”
She couldn’t cough, couldn’t gag, couldn’t do anything. Eyes watering, she tried to shake her head, but he held her firmly. As he pulled out, she gasped, coughed.
“Very good. Let’s try that again, but longer this time, eh?”
Longer? Dear gods….
Again her throat distended, engorged by the thick shaft of him. His balls pressed against her nose, filling her with the dark, sexual scent of him. She needed air, needed a breath, needed to not feel him half-way to her stomach. Fingers pinched her nipples, lifting her full breasts. There was no air for the scream that stuck in her belly. OH! It hurt! Her tits were big, yet he lifted them high.
He pulled away, and she coughed, gagged, groaned. His fingers still held her nipples, rolling them now in his tight grip. Dropping of them should have been a relief, but he slipped back into her mouth, and began to slap the round orbs, his touch leaving heat, and handprints, behind. She said something, but his cock shoved the words back into her lungs. He held there, plugging her, his hands battering her tits.
She arched, her back rising from the desk as she came.
“You naughty girl. Coming all over my important papers.”
He pulled out of her throat, leaving her face streaked with tears, drool, precum. He was iron-hard. Moving around the desk, he tugged her until her ass hung off the edge. Her legs came up as he lifted them over his shoulders.
Oh thank gawd, she thought. She needed to be fucked so badly. Her pussy throbbed with the intense need. Her tits throbbed from the beating, her clit announced her readiness, rising hard, thrusting invitingly toward him.
He slicked the head of his cock along her pussy.
“Not ready yet, I see,” he murmured. Before she could react to that, he slapped at her cunt. Her clit shrieked, her pussy quivered. He struck hard, the simple brutality as arousing as the silence. When she tried to close her legs, tried to drop an ankle to shield herself, he leaned forward, keeping her open and accessible, and pinched her nipple hard enough to make her scream a little.
Damn and she prided herself on her stoicism.
“fuuuuuck! Ow ow ow!” she cried as the biting grip did not relax.
“Legs. Stay. Open.”
“Yes. Yes. I will. . . please…ow…”
He dropped the nipple, slapping at her tit-meat a few times, before returning to her cunt. She swore she could feel the lips of her cunt swelling. Her flesh turned pink, then red. A thick bruise formed where his ring met her flesh. Head tossing side to side, she bit her lip to keep from keening aloud. Forever passed before he stopped. His cock once again trailed down her slit.
“Much better. You’re as wet as Niagara Falls, you slut! I think you like being treated hard.”
Her head rolled from side to side.
“Please,” she muttered.
He paused in the stroking of her slit with his shaft.
“Please? Please what slut? Please, explain.”
“Please … fuck me.”
“Are you looking for a better grade for your boy?”
“N…no…I…need you to fuck me.”
“You want it hard, don’t you? You like it rough. You want my cock to rape your soaking cunt, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, rape my aching, wet cunt. Please, please!”
“So wet. So fucking soaked.”
His cock never stopped, slowly fucking the length of her slit. Her sensitive swollen lips gripped at the massive shaft, her pussy lubricating him. The press against her anus surprised her.
“But not your pussy, I think. I’ll take a better, tighter prize today. But cheer up, Mrs. Williams. Your son will get an A.”
He shoved hard enough to move her back across the desk, her skin screaming where it had stuck from sweat and gripped. Her anus stretched, her mouth opened wide, but no words came out. Her breath was trapped somewhere deep in her belly as his cock pierced her tiny puckered asshole.
He fucked relentlessly. He fucked forever. Tears leaked down her eyes, tangled in the long streamers of her hair.
“Oh dear. I can’t cum in your ass…it might ruin your expensive suit, Mrs. Williams.”
His cock pulled out of her rectum with a pop. Fingers stretched the hole, then the sound of a cell phone clicking a picture.
“My insta-followers will love this gaping asshole shot,” he said. His grin was wide, his cock pulsing, a drop of precum oozing.
She had no words for this final humiliation.
“Okay. I’ll come in your mouth. Good girl asking so nicely.”
“no…no…I didn’t…you just…”
“I had no idea you were such a dirty slut, Mrs. Williams, but we do what we must for our children, don’t we?”
He tugged her back across the desk, held her head firmly. His cock smelled of shit. Her shit. She closed her mouth, but he pinched her nose until she gasped for breath. The whole length of him slid inside her mouth, across her tongue, into her throat. He stroked once, twice, before stiffening and grinding against her face. She felt the pulsing, the hot wetness at the back of her throat. He didn’t ejaculate in her mouth, allowing her to dilute the taste of her poop.
He pulled free, wiping the excess from the tip using a hank of her hair.
“Time to get dressed now, and scoot on home.”
His tone was neutral; she was nonplussed. Numbly she dressed, slipped into her shoes. There was nothing to be done for her hair, so she finger combed it. When she would have smoothed out the blob of semen, he stopped her.
“Leave that. Consider it…your grade.” He smiled, back in his chair, fingers templed together as he watched her dress. “Have a lovely evening, my dear.”
She looked over her shoulder at him.
“You’re a real bastard, you know.”
“So I’ve heard before.”
Taking up her briefcase, she thought about stomping out of the room. Her anus throbbed, and her pussy ached with unanswered need. She’d deal with that later, but she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of moaning when she moved. Head high, back straight, she made sure her hips had an extra swing as she left the room without a backward glance. Quietly, carefully, she closed the door until it clicked behind her.
He packed up his stuff, ready to leave. She’d been a hot piece of ass–in every sense of the word. He stepped out into the hallway, locking his door and pocketing his keys.
“Night, Harry,” he greeted the janitor.
“Night Mr. Williams.”