Disclaimer:
All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age.
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My hands nearly covered the small, twin globes of her ass, as I drank in he sight of her pale naked body prone on the bed in front of me. I spread her cheeks apart, exposing her pink star and the darker lips that protruded from the gap between her thighs.
Petite, lithe, you could call her many things, but the truth was she felt tiny in my hands. It was like holding a porcelain dream, fragile, beautiful to the eyes, soft to the touch.
She moaned as I crouched down, knees on both sides of her legs, and touched the tip of my tongue to her pretty asshole. I felt her ring pucker to the touch at first but then relax under my loving licks. Spread wide, her ass opened up to my tongue as I pushed it inside her, a little at first, then further and wider, until I was tongue fucking her passionately.
The sounds she made as I rimmed her were exquisite, her moans rising and lowering in unison with my tongue, music to my ears, never stopping, hard staccato huffs when I plunged rigidly deep into her hole, soft languid mewling when I withdrew and flattened my tongue over and around her star.
My hand left her ass and travelled under her, finding her sex wet and hot with longing. Fingers slipped between her beautiful butterfly wings, into her wet center and then over her clit, nudging, teasing. Circling her hot spot, closer, closer, then finding it and massaging her clit, rubbing in concert with the tongue playing with her ass.
She became loud, writhing under my assault, trying to increase the pleasure, to bring the orgasm. She moaned my name, wanting more, wanting release. Begging for pleasure at my hands.
"Mr. Stanley. Please Mr. Stanley!"
Her pleading was like a powerful drug.
I doubled my efforts, felt her start to stiffen, start to hold her breath, coming close to the point of no return. Then I stopped.
Her breath exploded in frustration. Looking back at me, begging in her blue eyes.
"Please..."
Her eyes widening when she saw I was lubing my cock with her juices on my fingers, adding my own saliva, preparing to penetrate her.
She turned her head away as I again spread her petite ass and aimed my cock at her asshole. Touching the head lightly to her wet pink star, I watched as it slowly stretched open, feeling her ass swallowing my cock inch by inch.
A long low grunt was the only sound she made while I worked my way deep inside her. Then a hiss of breath as I withdrew and those low moans as I started to fuck her slowly.
"Yeees...yeeeeeeessssss...yyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssss..."
Looking down, the contrast between her small 4'10 body and my thick cock looked awesome. Watching her little ass stretch around it was incredible. Exciting.
I thrust into her balls deep, now going faster and harder as I got closer to orgasm. She was now lying flat on the bed, her hands under her body furiously working her clit, my much larger, heavier frame slamming her down into the mattress as I fucked her ass.
"Yee-heee-heeess-sss Mr. St-aahaa-nl-hey...! Ngghh! Ngghh! Ngghh!..."
Then her moans stopped. Her breath held. Her body rigid. I felt her muscles squeezing my cock start to pulsate with her orgasm as her scream filled my ears. I couldn't hold back any longer.
As her body finally went limp under me I came inside her, filling her ass with my cum.
Some time later we lay on the bed, her head on my chest, slender leg draped over my thigh, the evening sun shining golden through my bedroom window, playing in her yellow hair.
"Thank you Mr. Stanley" she whispered.
---
I always knew it was wrong. High school teachers aren't supposed to fuck their students. In my defense I never planned it and she was over 18 when it started. I know, shitty defense.
During the last two weeks I had run through all the excuses in the book. Finished all of those and made up enough new ones for another book. But there were no excuses. I was fucking my student and that was that.
Looking back, I guess she started flirting with me just a little bit right at the start of the year. Classic story, young new teacher in a new town, hot senior girl sitting at the front of class. You've read this story before, right? I tried my very best to be professional but in a sunny state there were just too many bare legs, arms, midriffs and plunging necklines for a 28 year old guy who had just moved from Canada to ignore those first weeks. Eyes strayed, lingered perhaps a fraction too long. Nothing really, but maybe she noticed.
And she was hot. Oh fuck she was hot. Seventeen at the beginning of her senior year, golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes, her smile bringing a cute dimple to life in her left cheek. Slender body, awesome legs and tiny compared to my 6'5 frame.
There had always been something about girls half my height that fascinated me. I can't really explain it, tiny girls just turn me on like nothing else. Being so tall myself, I guess it's the contrast, og perhaps some primal urge to protect a smaller woman, I don't know. There's probably a medical sounding fetish name for it somewhere.
Nicole's forehead just about reached my nipples when she stood. From the first time I saw her walk into my class in a short skirt and t-shirt, her bag slung easily over her shoulder, smiling and laughing with her friends I was hooked on her beauty.
So what happened? How did I go from just admiring from afar to regularly thrusting my cock into her hot pussy? There was no extra curricular training or personal tutoring or coming to my house involved. Nothing like that. She just threw out a line and I swallowed, hook, line, sinker.
She always sat in the front row, right in my line of sight. Fun personality, quick to a smile and a laugh, a joy to have in the classroom in every way. She was a good student and often asked for help when she was working on something. Somewhere along the way I started to suspect she sometimes did it just to bring me over to her desk, where I had a little too good a view down her shirt, standing to her side while she explained her problem.
Sometimes when the class was engrossed in work, heads down, she would slide a little further down her chair, her skirt riding a little too high on her thighs. Sitting right at the front, I don't think anyone really saw that except me. Her breasts were small, suiting her body well, and sometimes it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra, her puffy nipples outlined in her top, beaming at me during class like headlights.
Sometimes she would come to my desk at the end of class and ask a question, standing close to ask about something in her notes, letting me inhale the subtle scent of her hair and perfume.
Never anything untoward, no glimpses of nipple down her blouse or pussy up her skirt. Nothing like that. Just hints of treasures buried, presents unwrapped.
Sometimes I thought she was being a flirt on purpose, sometimes I thought it was just all in my dirty mind.
It was nothing out of the ordinary really, when working with a horde of hormonally charged, often scantily clad 18 year olds on a daily basis. But that was it really. I never in a million years intended it to be anything more.
And then one Sunday afternoon in the end of January, when I was grading some papers in my living room with a beer on the side, my phone chimed.
I didn't look at first, expecting it to be my mom, or my brother with something mundane.
I finished reading the paper I was working on. Got up to get another beer.
Then it chimed again.
I picked it up and checked. No messages in the usual family chats. No new text messages. But the notifications said I had two new messages on Snapchat from someone called "throwaway6969".
I don't really use Snapchat for anything other than keeping up with a few friends from college. Curious now, I checked.
I tapped on the message and my eyes shot open.
It was a picture of a bare midriff and navel, with the words "Hi Mr. Stanley" written a little clumsily in red lipstick on the body.
Then the picture suddenly changed to another, this one of a naked leg with the words "I think you're hot" written in red letters from the ankle to the knee.
I blinked. The phone chimed. A chat from throwaway6969. I tapped it. An emoji blowing me a kiss.
I sat there stunned. This was obviously someone from school. Nobody else in my life called me Mr. Stanley. Well, the school principal and some of the older staff still did but that sure hadn't looked like principal Anderson's navel.