This could be her only chance. Almost everyone she knew had done it at least once if not a couple dozen times, and how fucking embarrassing was it that she, in her final year of high school having turned eighteen months ago, hadn't yet. There was only one small difference, that being who she was doing it with. This had to be better than having her first time with one of those brainless jocks Stace seems so obsessed over, right?
He lifted her by her thighs with her back against the door, tonguing the side of her neck and spreading her legs wide as though she were riding on a rearing horse. She draped her arms around his neck while trying to keep her moans in the lower inflection. Nervous jitters entered her body, but she took a deep breath. She wanted to learn how to do it, how to really, truly do it in its rawest form from an older, experienced man. And the first step was to start acting like an adult, and stop being such a virgin pussy.
"Fuck yeah, finally," he moaned into her ear. What's the next step from here? She tried to offer him a kiss but he missed it, his eyes drawn instead to below her skirt. He slid a finger under the crotch area of her cotton panties and peeled it off to the side, and she gasped from the cold air. It was impossible to see what was going on behind the skirt curtain though the sound of a metal buckle being undone made her heart start to race.
"We're doing it? Already?" she asked him.
"You wanted to learn, right?" he responded.
All too soon she felt something poking her down-there, letting an involuntary yelp in the higher inflection escape. Before she could make sense of it all, before she had time to voice her approval or stop him or mentally prepare herself, pop! The unseen object pierced into her, a bee sting into her groin. All her muscle fibers tensed at once, and instantly the searing pain of regret washed over her. She wanted to shout out something, but all that escaped was dry heaving.
"Shhh--Holy fuck, are you a virgin?" he asked, covering her mouth to stop her from screaming. Though she tried for a few seconds to grit her teeth and hold her composure, eventually she nodded her head and admitted it, yes, it hurts like hell. Her arms around his neck tensed and her legs wanted to clamp down around him, but she was afraid that would slide him further inside.
"Can I start moving?" he asked, though it was more of a command. Even as she shook her head, he started moving his hips and seared into her like a knife being drawn deeper. With her mouth covered she took fast gasps through her nostrils, staring in shock at her teacher's face as her slit was unceremoniously split wide open.
From over his large hand she looked into his face, cold and uncaring, mouth hanging open in pleasure but eyes looking past her, as though she didn't exist. He's so big, he's so, so big. In this position, he could do whatever he wanted to her. His wrists were thicker than the upper part of her arms, she could barely wrap her legs entirely around his waist, and he was carrying her around like a ragdoll. She lost any belief that him being her guardian would mean he'd be gentle with her.
"Shit shit shit, Bell, cool it with your nails," he said while working his hips. She had an iron grip on his shoulders which she couldn't relax if she wanted to. He pulled his hand away from her mouth and she gulped the needed air, but she let out a great whine of pain and delirium at the top of her lungs which was cut short when he snapped his hand back where it was. Oh my fucking God, oh my fucking God.
"Can you be quiet?" he said, the same way he'd tell noisy students sitting in the back of the classroom, but he kept working his hips as if the two halves of his body were separate entities. Only for a second did he slow down as she felt his hand reach up to her buttoned blouse.
She jumped but his hand only grazed the top of her breasts, pulling the collar of her shirt up to her mouth. She blushed feeling like a child chewing her shirt again as she bit down and saliva soaked its way down to her neck. Now with both hands gripping her butt he sped up, working his hips into her like the cylinders of a car engine, and she could feel the throb of his racing heartbeat in her groin working at the same pace as him. Even with the cloth garment in her mouth, she still moaned and groaned, now muffled through her teeth and collar.
"F-fuck, it's been so long, so fucking good." His eyes were closed as though he were receiving a deep relaxing massage. She winced at the feeling of each thrust, then braced for each next. Like that time she sipped beer from her uncle's mug and had to run over to the sink to spit it out, this was not something she was ready for.
She tried her best to heed his warnings, but she couldn't help but scream and cry out from the feeling between her legs. Her shirt fell out her mouth with a trail of saliva making the top of her breasts feel wet and uncomfortable. This time he let her scream, pounding away without stopping her. Both hands were clenching onto her ass as though it were the only valuable part of her body, and he drilled into her as though trying to draw out something, each thrust deeper than the last. But before long, someone outside began to pass by. The sound of footsteps approached, the clicks of heels, paced towards the door.
"Oh s-shi-, M-mister Grayson...!"
"Fuck," said Mr. Grayson, though he didn't stop his hips. "Shush!"
She tried to hold her moans but the intense stimulation in her groin made it hard not to, but trying to slow her breath made her feel like she was going to pass out; what came out as a result was a pathetic whimper. Still, the clip-clop of heels was growing louder as the person in the halls neared. Her heart drummed, faster than it had during any of her fastest sprints out on the track.
Mr. Grayson covered her mouth again. But because his hands were preoccupied supporting her bottom, he latched his mouth over hers and formed a tight seal, quieting her while at the same time giving her her desired kiss. His lips were soft like she had anticipated, but in her agony she failed to notice. He invaded her mouth to wrestle her tongue with his own. She screamed, or attempted to--his locked lips accomplished their duty of muffling her screams, but the intensity of the sensation and the sudden shutoff of her air supply made her vision go blurry.
As he penetrated her, her limbs seized and lost control at the same time. She could barely keep her arms on his shoulders and the only thing stopping her from falling to the floor was his iron grip and the door she was pinned to. The sounds in the room were a cacophony; shuddering gasps out her nose, the slimy slithering of his tongue against hers, and the squelching of her juices down below.
Whoever was out in the halls approached the room as their footsteps grew louder. With the last inklings of consciousness and reasoning she had, her heart leaped out her chest as the stress of being caught in the act burned in her head. Though Mr. Grayson seemed to be listening as well, eyes shifting to the door behind her, his hips never missed a beat.
Click, clack, click the heels went, until whoever was out there was audibly on the other side of the door. They stood within a yard of her and Mr. Grayson, the only thing separating them being the metal door to his office. Whoever was out there was standing on the other side; if they knew, they were searching, if they didn't, they were wondering. If there was a God, he'd get her out of this hell.
Time passed slowly. The ticking of the wall clock. The flicking of his tongue. The sound of cars whooshing out the shaded window. The thrum of his heartbeat beating inside her. The grip of his hands over her cloth panties and bare cheeks. The pressure from his cock. Eventually, whoever was out there either gave up their search or decided they didn't hear anything and headed back down the hall, their footsteps growing quieter. Once the footsteps grew faint enough that whomever was out there was gone, he released his lips from hers with a wet smack, and she immediately started gasping for air.
