Mr. Jacobs' Student Trouble

I come through the front door and lock it behind me, kick off my shoes, hang my keys on the hook, and set down my work bag. I'm looking forward to having the place to myself for the evening until my wife gets home from her errands, something about going to her mother's.

I walk into the living room and in thigh-high white socks, a school skirt, and a tucked in, button-down white shirt is Ashley. 5'5, curly dark hair pulled back into pig-tails, freckles splashed across her nose.

"Hi Mr. Jacobs." she says, biting her lip, hands fidgeting at her skirt. "I hope you don't mind, your wife let me in and said she had to get going, she said it'd be okay if I waited here for you?"

Her beautiful olive skin makes the crisp white of her shirt and socks almost seem to glow, especially at her neck line, and further down where she seems to have one too many buttons undone. The shirt is clean and wrinkle free, so it's clear by the "points" she's not wearing a bra beneath it.

"Uh...", is all I can get out, poorly hiding that my eyes are travelling up and down her body.

"I told you I wanted to talk to you about my grades?" she says, sheepishly taking a step forward, honey colored eyes wide, searching my face for some confirmation.

"Uh...shoes?" I mutter.

"Huh?"

"Where are your shoes?"

"I...I left them by the door Mr. Jacobs, I didn't want to track anything in. I hope that's alright." she says, looking down at her toned, stockinged legs, lifting her skirt just enough to get a better view of her feet...revealing just the tops of her white socks and a slip of the soft brown skin of her thighs.

"Ashley, what are you doing?" I ask. Her brow furrows, she tries to play it off into a pouty look, but I can tell she's frustrated this isn't going as she planned.

"I just said, Mr. Jacobs I wanted to talk to you about my grades."

"Here, Ashley. What are you doing here, in my house? We could have talked about your grades after class, or you could have asked to come to my office."

She blushes and looks at the floor, "I just thought it'd be nice if it weren't so formal, and I wanted to see your wife. You always talk about her, and I wanted to see if she was..." she trailed off.

"If she was?"

"Pretty, I wanted to see how pretty she was."

"Uh huh." I say skeptically.

"She is! She's very pretty." Ashley says, like she's congratulating me.

"I think so too. Ashley, have a seat.", I say gesturing to the couch. She sits and leans back on one of the arm rests, facing me, the angle of her shoulders causes her shirt to open slightly, showing more of her chest. I sit down on the other end of the couch, as far away from her as I can. For a second I consider moving to the nearby chair, but I've already sat. I settle with leaning forward on the edge of the seat. Half of my brain rationally says "This girl is obviously trying to seduce you.", the other half barely maintaining composure, and apparently controlling my body, reflecting the awkwardness of the situation. I sit facing forward, my head turned toward her, trying not to look at her open blouse, her one stocking clad leg pulled up under the other, parting her thighs, her skirt hiked up just a bit too high.

"So..." I'm drawing my words out way too much, "About. Those. Grades."

"I'm not doing as well as I think I should in your classes, Mr. Jacobs."

"B's are passing Ashley, your grades are fine."

"I think I should be getting A's, Mr. Jacobs. Don't you think I should be getting A's?"

"I...think you would be getting A's if you turned in your homework on time."

Flustered, she sits up, inching forward just a bit "I turn in my work!"

"On time, Ashley, your work is fine, but your usually turning it in a day late and I have to dock you points. You're not leaving me with a lot of options." I say matter of factually. I think I've found my rhythm, no more awkwardness, just a teacher talking to a student, no big deal.

"But if I turned it in on time I would have A's?"

"Based on what I've seen of your work, yes, if you turned it in on time, you would have A's."

She slides both legs up onto the couch in a kneeling position, and in a sultry tone says "Isn't there anything I can do to to make some sort of exception, or extra credit?"

She's slowly making her way across the couch now, but her play is obvious, I'm having none of it.

"Okay, stop." I say, turning and looking her in the eye, she pulls back a bit.

"Ashley, this isn't going to work." she looks worried, wounded. I sigh heavily, "Ashley, you're a very pretty girl, and I'm extremely flattered, just...just apply yourself a little more, get the work done BEFORE class and turn it in on time. You are too smart to be trying this sort of thing for achievement." I say gesturing toward her "state of dress".

"Thank you, Mr. Jacobs, I'm sorry." she smiles, blushing, trying to hide her face with her hands.

"It's okay. Look, I don't know how far you were going to push this, but if you need help you don't have to do all of this to get it, just ask."

"Yes, Mr. Jacobs, can I..."

"Bathroom's right around the corner, first door to the left down the hall."

"Thank you, Mr. Jacobs.", she gets to her feet and brushes past me. She smells amazing, it takes all of my restraint to not reach out and touch her, hand just above the knee, finger tips gliding up to her hips, sliding around to grip her perfect, pillowy ass. My thoughts cycled through being disgusted with myself and even thinking such a thing, to how I could have flipped up her skirt, pulled her onto my face, and ran my tongue under her panties and through her sweet, little lips until her pelvic muscles ached from orgasm after orgasm...

...I take a deep breath. My wife and I talked about everything, and when we talk about this she will not be happy. While I sat there trying to figure out a way to explain what DIDN'T happen, I began to realize, Ashley had been away a bit too long. I stood, took a deep breath, and mumbled "Ah, this isn't over, is it."

Walking down the hall, I saw the bathroom light was on, the door open. I walked to it and peeked inside.

"Ashley?"

"I'm in here, Mr. Jacobs." Her voice came from further down the hall...from the bedroom.

"Oh fuck", I whispered to myself and walked in. She lay there on my bed, stomach down, propped on her elbows looking at her phone, knees bent, stockinged feet making slow circles behind her. Her hair ties out, curly, shoulder-length dark hair let loose around her head, her skirt haphazardly bunched up revealing her backside, her white cotton panties appeared painted on two perfect, dusky orbs.

My knees go weak and I lean against the door frame. My penis has decided to "get active", my brain says "just in case!"

"Ashley, what are you doing?" I ask, clearly exasperated.

She doesn't even flinch, if anything I could swear she raises her bottom a little and arches her back. "Seeing about getting a ride.", she says casually.

"In my bedroom?" I quickly try to change the look on my face from one of utter agony to genuine confusion.

She turns her head and smiles over her shoulder, my self-control is hanging by a thread.

"I thought I'd take a quick tour after the bathroom, this bed is really comfortable, Mr. Jacobs." she says, extending her arms and stretching, arching her back further, rolling her hips back, pulling her skirt further up her waist.

"Why thank you, Ashley, my WIFE picked it out." my tone loud and flat, abandoning subtilty.

"Mmmm, she has great taste." she nearly moans, her head and shoulders flat against the sheets, her knees directly under her hips, the tops of her long socks creating a line just under the white cotton outline of her labia.

I look directly at a portion of the bed devoid of warm, supple flesh making me hard as an iron bar.

"Ashley, could you please pull your skirt down." as soon as the words leave my mouth I wince, and she giggles. I'm not going to bother stumbling through an explanation.

I hear her move on the bed, fabric moving against fabric, "Mr. Jacobs?".

I peek out of the corner of my eye, she's sitting sufficiently clothed, on the edge, legs together, looking less...sensual. "Can I talk to you, Mr. Jacobs?"

I open both eyes and look at her, "Of course, Ashley."

"Can you come sit next to me Mr. Jacobs?", she asks sweetly, patting a spot next to her on the bed.

My mind says, "Ha! Obvious trick, just like last time, we'll just sit down and, ah damn it."

She smells like a dream, my eyes soak in the curves of her cheeks, her freckles, her lips, her chin, her neck line, and oh, even more buttons undone, didn't notice that. I maintain eye contact to stay focused.

"I didn't come here to talk to you about grades, Mr. Jacobs." she says, almost admitting defeat.

"I'm starting to get that, Ashley." I say with genuine understanding, "What did you want to talk about?"

She sighs lightly and says, plainly, "I wanted to tell you that I'm okay with B's..."

"Good."

"And that the reason I turn in my work late is because I don't give myself time to do it all when I get home."

"Okay."

"Because when I get home from class, I go right to my room, sit on my bed, and play with my pussy while thinking about you, Mr. Jacobs.", without a hint of embarrassment.

It feels like all the air's just been sucked out of the room. Too much time passes before I stutter, "Uh...wow."

"Yeah. Do you want to watch, Mr. Jacobs?"

"W..what?", My face has gone flush, I can feel it, so has hers, but she's still looking me in the eye, not flinching.

Ashley leans back slightly, slowly spreads her knees, and pulls up the front of her skirt, sliding her fingers over her pubic mound.

"Do you want to watch me play with my pussy, Mr. Jacobs?"

The word "Yes" tears through my body like a hurricane, but passes my teeth as a whisper.

We sit silently, it registers that she's slid her panties down just far enough to expose herself , but I'm not breaking eye contact. I struggle to maintain focus on her brown/gold eyes, to not notice her cheeks reddening, her lips parting to show the tips of her teeth and tongue, her head shaking slightly as her fingers sweep over her clitoris. My brain reasons it's a stand-off, and the moment I look away, I'll lose.

"You can look, Mr. Jacobs.", she sighs "I want you to look."

Stand off's over, her palm rests below her belly button, her delicate fingers move gracefully through beautiful pink folds. Under her hand I see soft, jet-black, curly hair.

"You didn't shave." I say without thinking.

"No." she says, not missing a beat, "Trim, but not shave. The other girls do. I thought about it, but I like the way it feels when I run my fingers through it."

Keeping pace she does that, running her finger tips through her small patch of curly black hair. I can feel her eyes on me, watching my eyes and my face, her arousal building as I watch her hand work.

She makes a fist, "I like the way it feels when I pull it", she says softly, she lifts her hips slightly, pinching the hair between her fingers and tugging gently, her lips part, exposing her inner labia and clitoris. Speechless, I can't look away.

She alternates between dipping her fingers between her lips, brushing her clitoris with her fingers, and softly pulling her hair to expose her pink recesses. She's inviting me to touch, but I wanted to hear her say it, so I waited, and watched.

"Mr. Jacobs?"

"Yes, Ashley?" I asked, not looking away from her beautiful work.

"Will you show me your cock?"

I look at her face, but here eyes are already glued to my lap, beads of sweat on her brow, lips quivering she bears her teeth and hisses slightly. I stand and turn to face her. Her eyes follow the front of of my pants, as I unbuckle my belt, and drop my pants and boxers, picking up one foot, then the other to kick them aside, my erection bobs slightly but points like an arrow to her. I stroke slowly with one hand, tempted to match her pace but I resist. I don't want to come, I want her to watch.

Ashley exhales like a sigh of relief, her gaze never leaving my member. She arches her back, pushing her breasts past her arm, while still twirling her fingers through her mons.

"Mr. Jacobs, touch me, please?" She pleads. I step forward between her knees, one hand stroking my penis just above her lap, and her eyes widen, she licks her lips. I slide my free hand into her blouse, thumb down over one side, squeezing her breast softly, her hard nipple dragging against my palm causes her to shutter. I slide my hand lower, turning it and tracing my finger nails across her soft stomach, bringing my hand to her side, slowly up her ribs, over her other breast. She lifts her chin and turns her heads slightly, her eyes still locked on my stroking. I take the cue to slide my hand slowly upward, past her collar bone, onto her shoulder. I squeeze firmly, she closes her eyes and coos, and slowly reopens them still staring at my shaft. I slide my hand up further to the back of her neck and head. Her breath is becoming erratic. I carefully close my fingers, tug her gorgeous hair only slightly, but release quickly so that she can stay focused.

"Mr. Jacobs," she struggles to say, "I think if I tasted you right now, I would come."

I hold her head as she arched back against my hand and waited. Watching, still slowly stroking. Her legs are shaking, she's teetering on the edge, she's stuck. The situation giving her too much pleasure to move, but the act to give her release just out of reach. I hold her there, at the edge of the abyss. She's in agony. Seconds streched out as her breaths become whimpers and then become moans.

"Say it, Ashley. Say the words." I say in my lowest, softest voice.

"M-Mr. Jacobs," she almost sobs "Pull my mouth onto your cock.", the vulgarity of the words hypnotizes me. I pull her forward, one hand still on the back of her head holding her firm but not forcing, the other running fingers through her perfect hair. In one fluid motion she drops to the edge of the bed in front of me, my member disappears past her lips. Both her hands shoot down between her legs, her tongue works in a frenzy over my cock, her lips suck and kiss. Her voice moans down my length as she comes. Her hips buck and tense, her hands shoot up to my waste and ass as she pulls me deeper. I pull gently on her hair to make sure she doesn't go too deep.

As her orgasm runs its course she slows, but keeps sucking wetly. I'm getting close. I start to rock my hips slowly. Her hands slide around my hips one using thumb and forefinger to squeeze my base gently, the other pulls softly at my scrotum.

A few more long, wet sucks and she pulls away, looking up at me, her eyes are glazed over. She's still in a post orgasmic daze.

"Get on the bed." she whispers. I comply. As I sit back she pulls one leg out of her panties, and pulls them up the other to the thigh. I'm still sitting up she climbs on top of me, grabbing my hilt, still wet with her saliva, and aiming for her box.

"Ash wait, I need to taste you.", I say. She looks up at my face, her eyes hooded, lids half closed like in a trance. She sweeps her free hand through her pussy and pushes her fingers into my mouth, pushing me flat onto my back, and slides down onto my cock. That isn't what I meant by tasting her, she doesn't seem to care.

Ashley moans hard as she comes to rest at my hilt. She's so wet I slid into her easily, but the grip of her pelvic muscles is crushing, still tensing and relaxing. She doesn't bounce, she just sits, slowly grinding back and forth, not enough to get either of us any closer to orgasm, just enough to feel me inside her. The intensity of her orgasm must've caused her muscles to ache, her eyes closed and slight smile tells me having something to squeeze against gives her relief.

"Oh." she says on a long exhale, "That feels so good. Having your cock inside me makes me feel so tight...Mr. Jacobs." Her eyes open as she says my name, reestablishing eye contact with me, grinning in triumph. Her eyes are clear now, she has her wits back, she is right where she wanted to be.

She slides her hands under my shirt, I comply and let her pull it off me. Then she unbuttons the few buttons she has left and the fastener as the side of her skirt and sheds all but the long white socks and the bunched up panties bound around one leg.

Having lost her clothes and regaining her bearing, she leans further back, putting her hands behind her on the tops of my thighs, sticking out her chest. She begins quick small bounces on top of me, each punctuated with a breathy "huh, huh, huh". Her noises say she loves fucking me, but her eyes, steady, smiling, and studying my face, say she loves me watching her fuck me.

I'm not phased by her theatrics, I smile and crook an eyebrow, my face says "Oh, is that right?". She smirks, and raises her eyebrows playfully with a slight nod, her face says "Yeah, that's right."

"Does my little pussy feel tight for you, Mr. Jacobs?" she adds to the show.

"Your little pussy feels so good, Ashley." I play along, "It makes my cock feel so big inside you. It's not too big for your tight little pussy, is it?"

"No Mr. Jacobs, your cock feels so thick and perfect. I knew it would."

I put my hands just above her knees, and squeeze softly, then begin to slide them up her legs to her hips. One hand makes it, the other gets caught on her panties, still wrapped around her thigh.

"Did you want me to take these little panties off your leg, Ashley?"

"No, Mr. Jacobs, I left them on so I don't lose them!" she says, playfully chastising me.

"Oh Ashley, do you lose your panties often?" I tease, and raise to a seated position, knees bent over the edge of the bed, holding her ass in my hands.

"Only when I get fucked really good, Mr. Jacobs." she shifts her feet up onto the bed and wraps her arms around my neck, letting most of her weight rest on my hands, bending her knees to "swing" herself onto my cock. "And I had to think of something..." she says picking up pace, "...because I knew you'd fuck me really good, Mr Jacobs." Her knees high, and her waist bent, my cock is penetrating deep, she's closing in on another orgasm.

"Like, what if your wife came home and found my little panties kicked under your bed, Mr. Jacobs, you'd be in so much trouble!" she teases.

"You know Ashley, my wife could be home any minute, she could walk in and find you just like this, naked, little white panties bunched around your leg, working your little pussy onto her husbands thick cock."

Without breaking her stride, dropping to an almost serious tone, she says, "I wish she would Mr. Jacobs. I'd love for her to watch."

Stunned, but quickly regaining my composure, I say "She'd be so angry, Ashley, she'd want an explanation. What would you say to her?"

Her tone becomes more serious, saying it not like she was just deciding, but like she'd thought about it a hundred times. "I'd thank her. And then I would eat her pussy." She stops using her legs to rock into me, but kept moving her hips, I took this to mean I was taking over, that she was getting close again.

"Ashley!" I say, shocked, "You want to eat my wife's pussy?"

"Yes, Mr. Jacobs. I want to eat Mrs. Jacob's pussy for her, and fuck her husband for her..." Her eyes are getting heavy again, she's talking herself into coming, and exposing an obvious fantasy.

"I would...I would take showers with her, and snuggle on the couch and finger her pussy while we drank wine and watched movies, and sleep in your bed with her."

"It's our bed, Ashley." I say, slowing down her rocking, giving her long, deep strokes. "I would be there too. I might wake up hard and find you between me and Mrs. Jacobs."

"Uh huh" she nods.

"I would slide my cock into your little pussy from behind."