About 3 months after I lost my virginity I seemed to become a target for slightly pervy older men. I don’t know why, maybe I started to carry myself differently or suddenly had an air of sexuality about me, but I’m almost certain that I wasn’t asking for it. It was probably the last time in my life, in fact, that I wasn’t.
It was just after my eighteenth birthday, and I had been skipped ahead in History, after completing the GCSE, with the top grade possible, the previous summer. I was brilliant at History and intended to study it at University. Because I had been put in an A Level class, ahead of my age, maybe some of the hormones and horniness of the kids in there rubbed off on me, as Mr. Newark obviously fancied me. He definitely paid me more attention and by the time Christmas rolled around, was singling me out for special treatment. It sounds stupid now, but for a long time I honestly didn’t understand the sexual slant of his attention. Until the evening in his office, in fact.
Like I say, I had lost my virginity, with a boy named Oliver, who as it happens, was in that A Level class. He was 18 and a bit geeky and the sex had been over at done in six minutes, timed on his bedroom clock. It hadn’t been terrible, but neither had it been anything much. Whilst I wasn’t traumatised by it, I hadn’t felt any pleasure either and we had broken it off soon after that when I decided I didn’t much fancy repeating the experience. There had been sexual pleasure in my life, I masturbated and had sexual feelings whilst watching late-night telly where women got their boobs out, and often frigged my barely broken in little pussy to a hot, sticky cum in my own bed, late at night, whilst thinking about whatever boyband member or schoolgirl crush I had that week, but these sexual feelings were fairly innocent. I hadn’t even seen proper porn then: the internet was well established but our one computer, complete with dial-up internet, was in the family room. Anyway, I wasn’t fully aware of the existence of porn! It seems crazy how little I knew.
Mr. Newark must have been excited by that innocence then, as I am almost certain that is what he saw in me that so turned him on. 40ish and not in bad shape, he was a decent looking, okay guy, who like I said, could be a little creepy with the sixth formers, and that winter had turned his attention to me.
One night, just before Christmas, he kept me back after class. At a recent parents evening I had said that I wanted to be a History teacher myself, and he had been looking at some degree courses I might be interested in.
“Come to my office at around 5,” he began, “After I’ve finished coaching year 8 football, and I will show you the prospectuses.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order.
When I arrived at 5, he was sitting already in his office, in shorts and a teeshirt, a bit sweaty from his exertions with year 8. I knocked nervously on the door. He greeted me and asked me to sit on a chair opposite him, closing the door as he did so. What happened next was an entirely banal twenty minutes, as he showed me the courses and I nodded dumbly, a bit bored and ready to go home. I had no inkling that anything weird was on the cards and at this stage, was right not to. He didn’t do anything to make me suspect what was about to happen. I got up to go and that was when he said the first strange thing of the evening.
“Beth,” he began, “I have a daughter about your age.” I nodded.
“Really Sir?” He nodded.
“Yes. Jessica she’s called.” I didn’t understand where this was going. “And recently she’s just begun to grow breasts.” Involuntarily, I blushed. This was strange. “I want to buy her a bra, Beth, and I wondered if you could help me.” I was mortified, why was my history teacher suddenly talking about bras in front of me? “Take your blazer off Beth.” For some reason I did it, and putting it down on the chair behind me, Mr. Newark walked over and looked down at my chest. He peered through my white shirt and at the lacy fabric underneath. He reached out and undid the top two buttons. My large breasts spilled out.
“Sir!” I exclaimed, snatching my blouse back and covering them back up. The bra beneath was light pink and the cups were lace. My nipples peaked through the fabric.
“You shouldn’t be shy,” Mr. Newark said, “you’ve got lovely big breasts. I’ve noticed them a lot since you’ve been in my class.” I still clasped Anadolu Yakası Escort my blouse to me. “You should let me touch them. Then I could help you out.” Help me out? But how? “That essay you’ve been struggling with. For coursework. I have written a copy for you. Grade A. No questions. It’s all there. All yours.” He moved across to a filing cabinet. He handed me a neatly typed, seven page essay, my name at the top, his red ink on it “56 marks, Grade A”. I clutched my blouse to me still.
“And that’s all you want? To touch my breasts?” I asked. Mr. Newark smiled.
“If that’s all you want, Beth.” He handed me the essay. “To show I’m true to my word take it.” He held it out. “Go on, put it in your bag.” I moved forward slowly and let my blouse drop. I took the essay and folded it in half. “Good girl. We understand one another.” I stood, waiting to see what he would say next. “Now. Take that blouse off.” I hesitated and pulled it off slowly. He pulled down the blind at his window and there I stood, just in my school skirt and bra. “Lovely.” He said, reaching out and firmly taking my right breast in his big, manly hand. Despite myself a shiver of desire ran through me. He registered it, because his smile widened. “You like that?” I didn’t respond. He rubbed the nipple through the lace. “They really are lovely and big, Beth. What size are they?” I opened my mouth, but stuttered.
“36 FF, Sir.” I said. He rubbed the nipple harder. I moaned, softly.
“Such a beautiful size.” I could feel myself getting hotter and underneath my knee-length skirt, my legs trembled. Mr. Newark noticed because he gestured that I should sit on the desk in front of him. “Take the bra off, Beth.” He said, helping with the straps. “Let me hold them properly.” I slipped it off and he stood before me, taking one in each hand. I noticed that he had an erection. For some reason this excited me, and as he moved closer, I felt my pussy dampening, a feeling that was quite new to me around a real-life man and not in my fantasies. “Beth, tell me,” Mr. Newark began, “Are you a virgin?” I shook my head, nervously.
“No, Sir.” He looked pleased.
“So, you’re a slut, Beth?” He asked, bending his head and taking a nipple in his mouth. I groaned, a deep, animal groan. No one had ever done that before. It felt incredible. Immediately my clitoris hardened in my knickers, and I longed to reach down and touch it through the fabric. He removed his mouth, “A little slut.”
“No, Sir,” I objected, “I’ve only done it once.” He moved his mouth to the other breast and sucked down the nipple. My pussy got wetter.
“Who with?” He asked. He resumed his suckling and I leaned back to allow him greater purchase. With his other hand he rubbed his own, hard cock through the material of his trousers.
“Oliver Mason.” I said. He chuckled.
“In my class?” He said. He continued rubbing himself through the fabric. “Was it ……” he seemed amused, “…Good? With Oliver Mason?” I shook my head as he manipulated my right nipple with his thumb.
“Not really, Sir.” He considered for a second.
“Tell me, Beth.” He took his hand away from his penis and took a breast in each hand again. “Have you ever had an orgasm?” I shivered as he kissed the soft flesh of the tops of my breasts gently.
“Oh yes, Sir. Lots.” I was nervous but desire ran through me intoxicatingly. I had never been turned on like this outside of my imagination.
“And you bring these on yourself, do you?” He asked, still kissing and nipping my taunt, young flesh.
“Yes, Sir. By touching myself.” He continued to caress me.
“Could you…..” he paused…. “Show me?” I was scared and startled but longed to touch my aching hole. Without speaking, I stood and removed my knickers. He moved away and sat on a chair a few feet away. I moved back onto the desk and, shyly but longing to ease the dull ache, opened my legs. My pussy was puffy and neatly trimmed. The hair on it didn’t quite match the hair on my head, which was a deep red, but it had an auburn hue. Mr. Newark gasped. “So pretty.” He said, admiringly. “Show me, Beth.” I leant back against the wall and, closing my eyes, placed two fingers on the hard bud, that ached so badly. Instantly it ached less and sparks flew through me. I rubbed it and moaned softly. I lost myself for a few moments, rubbing and rubbing, urgently trying to Avrupa Yakası Escort get myself off. When I opened my eyes moments later, I saw that Mr. Newark had released his penis from his shorts and was wanking it up and down, slowly but firmly, eyes flicking between my pert teenage breasts and my full, wet cunt. His penis was huge: much bigger than Olivers, much bigger than I imagined a penis could be. Even now, from the vantage point of many years and many cocks later, I can see that it was an extraordinarily large one. At least 9 or 10 inches long, and circumcised . He had a very Jewish look, dark and brooding, and clearly he was a Jew. His penis was also thick and solid, meaty and pink. Looking at it turned me on immensely, and my hole spasmed upon seeing it, as if it knew it needed to be plugged. I continued rubbing my hot little bean and thought these dirty, disgusting thoughts.
A few moments passed and I cried, animal little cries. I knew I was getting close. As if on cue, Mr. Newark rose, his shorts falling, and stepped out of them, stepping towards me, his huge and beautiful penis jutting out before him. He placed his fingers over mine, relieving me of my exertions, and rubbed for me, harder and faster than I had been doing.
“Touch your tits.” He ordered, and I did, squeezing them and squeezing the nipples as I careered fast and hard towards the first orgasm of my life not administered by myself. He rubbed even harder and then suddenly I yelped as my innocent little love-box came, hard and wetly, the breath knocked from my lungs. I collapsed against the wall, breathless and hot. Mr. Newark looked thrilled and if anything his penis only seemed harder. As I lay, half dazed against the wall, he smirked. “Did you enjoy that, Beth?” I nodded.
“You came very hard.” He said. I nodded.
“It was wonderful, Sir.” He stroked the neat, red hair on my mound.
“Did young Oliver Mason make you cum like that?” He asked. I shook my head. “You need an older man to show you how it’s done.” I nodded. His fingers walked down to my hole, which had been neglected. “And you aren’t a virgin?” I shook my head.
“No, Sir. Like I said, I had sex once.” Tentitively he gently pushed his index finger into my vagina. He just got the tip in and I groaned, my young and barely used muscles pulling in around it.
“I don’t know how a penis would even get in a hole so tight.” He said, pushing harder. The little hole yielded to allow his whole finger inside. I moaned with pleasure. I was incredibly turned on. “If a penis were in there, it would surely feel like a tight, wet, velvet glove.” He moved his finger in and out just a little, but enough to cause me to really get into it. I shifted myself to allow the sensations to really pulse through me. “You like that, Beth?” He asked.
“Oh, yes Sir.” I moaned.
“You know, Beth, you really are my cleverest pupil.” I nodded, but wasn’t really listening as his finger still fucked me and my pussy was reacting around it. “If we could have an arrangement I really think I could help you with your uni place.” He pushed a second finger in and I saw lights before my eyes. My body and face must have reacted because he fucked the fingers in and out harder and I groaned, deeply. “What do you say?” He asked.
“Yes, Sir.” He began to really finger-bang my little cunt and his thumb found my clit. As soon as he touched it I knew that I would cum if he continued. “Oh, yes Sir!” I agreed again.
“Would you like to taste my cock?” He asked. I didn’t care, I would do whatever he wanted as long as he continued pleasuring me like this. I nodded. “Very good. If you do I will make that little pussy cum again. Get on your knees.”
I did as I was told and fell, hungrily, to my knees. I had never sucked a cock before but animal lust had taken over and I wanted it in my throat. As it happened I didn’t need to wonder about how to start because he simply shoved the long tool in between my lips before I could ask what I should do.
“Is this the first dick in your mouth, Beth?” I replied in the affirmative, my words mere nonsense around his organ. “Good.” He replied. “A lovely virgin mouth.” He thrust it in and out for a few moments, fucking my sixteen year old face. He moaned and groaned and gripped the back of my head. “Suck harder.” He ordered. I did. It felt amazing in my mouth, hot İstanbul Escort and hard, but soft at the same time, like velvet. I lathed it with my tongue and he said, in rhythm with his thrusts, “You’re a natural, my girl.” A few moments passed, spit spilling from my mouth and my boobs jiggling up and down up and down. I felt his cock get suddenly harder and he pulled it from my mouth. “Get on all fours on the desk” He ordered. I scrambled up. “Take your skirt off.” He commanded. I did as I was told. I knew he was going to put his penis into my vagina. I wanted it in there. “You nearly made me cum,” he said, as I got into position, “But I need to fuck your little cunt.” He went to the filing cabinet behind him and pulled out a condom. I obviously wasn’t his first school girl. I watched over my shoulder as he stretched the latex over his throbbing dick. I found something about watching him fist and cover his penis with the condom a turn on. He stepped forward and I turned my head to face ahead. He rubbed the soft head of his huge member up and down my sticky slit. I didn’t know how this would work as I didn’t even know you could have sex with a woman from behind. My tight little cooch seemed to understand though, as the muscles reacted as he rubbed, and he chuckled, “why it’s almost pulling me in.” he laughed.
As he pushed it in for the first time, he had to put his hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming. I groaned and he slammed it all the way to the hilt. “So… fucking…. Tight.” He moaned. My muscles gripped him and he wasted no time in banging me, hard and fast. Within less than a minute I knew I would cum and pulling my hair he said, “Rub your clit and it will feel twice as good.” I did and literally seconds later my cunt came, it’s first orgasm with a cock inside it, grabbing and pulsating around Mr. Newark. He made a noise I had never heard before and fucked me so hard I could feel it in my spine. Without speaking he pulled out and pushed me down and round, so I was on my back, spread eagled on the desk. Pots of pens and books fell to the floor. Without missing a beat he fisted his sticky cock and my gaping vag and pushed it back in, grasping my ankles and pulling them as far apart as they would go. This caused me to scream out, and even the seasoned pro that was my History teacher couldn’t stop the scream that time. If he cared he didn’t show it because he just carried on, pulling my ankles further still so that he seemed to be filling me even more than he had been before. I realise now that he had hit my G Spot, although at the time I didn’t know what was happening, just that it felt amazing. There didn’t seem to be any distinction between orgasms, where one ended another began and I was just hit by cum after cum. My nipples stood out on my chest and my tight, teenage body was flushed with pleasure. I looked down and saw Mr. Newark’s big, hard dick emege and disappear over and over again as it destroyed my tight, little insides. My clit stood out over the top, a bright red little torpedo that he reached down and pinched between his thumb and forefinger. That sent me over the edge and a final, huge and all emcompassing cum ripped through me and this time he managed to get his hand over my mouth before I screamed. The tight grip of my cumming vagina took Mr. Newark in it’s grip and I felt his penis expand and then jump as he whispered hoarsely, “I’m cumming, you little bitch!”
Afterwards, I dressed shyly, and Mr. Newark busied himself with rearranging he desk. I made sure that the essay was tucked safely in my bag and he absently handed me a five pound note.
“To get you on the bus and stuff.” He said. I nodded. “So, Beth. We have an arrangement?” He asked. I thought about it. I felt a bit dirty about what had happened and truth be told, I didn’t really even fancy the History teacher. But the sex had opened my eyes to a whole new world, and I knew boys my own age couldn’t do that to me.
“And this is our… secret?” He said. It wasn’t really a question. It was a statement. I nodded.
“Of course, Sir.” He smiled.
“Good.” He paused, and I went to leave, my hand on the door knob. But before I could he said. “My wife and children are going to her mothers next weekend.” The statement hung in the air. “I live nearby. I would love it if you could come round and we could look at those university courses?” I smiled before composing my features to turn around and look at the older man.
“Okay, Sir. Let me know.” He nodded. Suddenly business like.
“Excellent!” He beamed. “And Beth? Same time next week in here? We’ll go through that test you did?” I smiled back.
“See you then, Sir.”
I couldn’t wait.