1
An entire classroom, an entire classroom of senior fucks, drooling at a television screen, staring off into space, checking their prohibited cell phones and staring off into space, a gaggle of idiots zoning out or just too stoned to pay attention in the first place, and there I sat before them all, staring down at the naked little slut hidden underneath my desk, tucked away, deepthroating my cock and staring up at me with those big, beautiful green eyes, watering, tearing up, smearing her make up and trying desperately, incredibly desperately, not to gag too loud.
I picked up the remote and turned the volume up a couple bars, then reached down, grabbed the back of Stephanie Carter's head, and shoved the rest of my shaft down her throat.
It all started one evening in February. It was brisk but it hadn't snowed in some time, and the sun was out. I was walking home from grabbing an early dinner alone.
It had been a little over a year since my fiance and I had called off the wedding. I spent my time reading, writing, drinking prolifically, and enjoying myself, be it alone or with friends. I lived in a small little college town in New England, I had friends, drinking buddies, a job I hated, a broken love hanging over my head, everything a man in his early thirties could want.
I was getting close to my house when I spotted a cute little number walking up to the same corner as me. I knew her figure at once, she was too quiet and alone to be a college student, it must be one of my kids, I thought.
Through her tight jeans I could see a plump ass sticking out, short, thick legs, a narrow waist, and black hair sticking out from underneath a hoodie. She was carrying two large, black plastic shopping bags at her side. Not the kind they give you at the mall, certainly not the kind they supply at the neighborhood grocery store.
She turned to me and I saw her cute, slightly hispanic face peeping out, then she quickly turned away.
"Stephanie?" I called at her, picking up the pace to catch her.
"Oh, Mr. Jackson, hi," She stammered, clearly flustered and flushed. I cocked my head, taken aback by her demeanor.
In class, Stephanie was never one without something to say. I teach history, and this girl never shuts up, be it correcting a date, gabbing with her little friends, interjecting with some awful feminist diatribe (we get it, Columbus was a murderer), or giggling at her own stupid jokes. It was a rare sight for me to see her so reluctant to speak.
"Do you live around here?" I asked, putting myself in her way.
"Yeah," She mumbled, "Up on Elliot."
Something was up with her, and I normally couldn't give a rats ass about my students, but I couldn't help my curiosity. I had to know what was in those bags.
"No shit, me too." I lied, smiling. "Here, I'll walk you." I volunteered, grabbing the bags at her side and crossing the street, without waiting for her consent.
"No, no, Mr. Jackson, it's ok, really," She begged, catching up to me and trying to pull the bags from my hands.
"Nonsense," I cheerily laughed. "It's only a couple blocks, and these bags are pretty heavy, I really don't mind, I promise." I said, and she acquiesced, biting her lip, nervously.
"What were you doing, shopping?" I asked, peeping down, unable to see into the black bags.
"Uh, yeah, just picking up a couple things."
"You know I would have thought girls your age go shopping in groups, right? Teenage pack mentality? Hanging out at the mall with your friends? Isn't that how it works?" I pried, reading the uneasiness on her face like the condescending, angsty, teenage feminist essays she'd forced me to read all year.
"Uh, yeah, I just left Jenny and Sarah."
"Ha! I knew it. See, I'm not so out of the loop, I'm only 32 you know." I said, laughing and enjoying the frustration on her face. "I used to be a little bit of a mallrat myself, still pretty good on my skateboard, you should see me sometime."
She forced a cute little laugh.
"Uh, sure, yeah," she mumbled, and we were almost to her street. I knew I wouldn't have much longer, I'd have to make a move quickly.
We crossed the street and I saw the high curb on the other side. Seizing upon the oportunity, I purposefully tripped on it, catching my balance just enough to drop one of the bags, it's contents spilling onto the sidewalk and grassy area.
"Oh, damn it, I'm so sorry," I said, bending down to pick up the boxes I'd spilled. She lunged forward too, but was too slow, and stood back in horror as I picked up one of the containers.
It was a white cardboard box with a see through plastic window: a large, purple butt plug staring me straight in the face.
I knew it was something bad, something she'd be ashamed of, but I didn't have to fake my disbelief as I stared at the box, then her, then the box again.
I slowly put it back in the bag, then inspected the rest of her toys: a ball gag, beginner's handcuffs, dildos, more plugs, lube, a large vibrator.
"Jesus Christ," I exclaimed, looking up at her, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide open.
"They let teenagers buy this shit?" I asked, some consternation on my face.
"I turned 18 last weekend," she whimpered, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"And this is what you spent your birthday money on, isn't it? All your aunts and uncles give you money, and you buy-" I looked back into the bag, "buttplugs?"
She stood there, taking quick, deep breaths, before lunging at me, grabbing my arm and pleading.
"Mr. Jackson, please Mr. Jackson! You can't tell anybody! I've never bought anything like this before, I was walking buy and just, it's a joke, it's a joke, I swear."
I pulled out the industry grade vibrator, as long as my forearm, and held it up, finding the price tag.
"Seventy dollars is quite a lot to spend on a joke." I said, smiling and patting her on her shoulder. "Stephanie, it's ok, you don't have to lie. You're a woman now, you should be proud of your sexuality. When everybody finds out about this, you can just tell them that you-"
"When everybody finds out about this?!" She almost choked on the words, nearly working herself into a fit.
"Well, yeah," I said, matter of factly. "You expect me to keep my mouth shut about this? No way, this is too rich. I'm only human, you know."
Tears started streaming down her cute, tan cheeks, smearing her eyeliner, her eyes pink and puffy already.
"Mr. Jackson, please, I'm begging you, I'll do anything, just please don't tell anyone."
I stood up and pulled a pack of cigarettes from my jacket pocket, lighting one as I stared down at her.
"You smoke?" I asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"No," she muttered, "No thank you."
I smiled and took a drag or two, then pat her on the shoulder.
"I tell you what," I said, flicking the cigarette to the ground, my heart racing too fast to enjoy it. "You wear that plug tomorrow, the purple one, wear it through the entire class, and I'll keep my mouth shut for another day, ok?"
I snubbed out the ember with the sole of my shoe as she stared at me, her mouth gaping.
"But that's the biggest one I bought." She protested.
"Well, you bought it to use it," I shrugged, laughing a little.
"How will you know that it's in?" She squeaked.
If you can't imagine my smile at this point, it was ear to ear.
"Well, I guess you'll have to stay after class and prove it to me."
I turned and left her there, walking away in the cold spring air. It was quiet and I didn't hear her footsteps. I knew better than to look back, but I imagine she stood there staring at me walking away for quite some time.
2
Stefanie gagged quietly under the desk, completely naked, her supple, round tits swinging back and forth as she bobbed her head up and down. She pulled my cock out of her mouth and stared up at me, kissing the shaft, licking the tip, then gently sucking on my balls as she jerked me off, her eyes never once breaking contact from my own.
I looked up to see if I was getting any strange stares, but I was the last thing in that classroom that any of those kids wanted to pay attention to.
