Distraction Ch 03

The next day at college, Amy was struggling to focus. She couldn't get the previous night out of her head. She'd woke up wet before, sure, but never having actually cum.

Then there were the dreams afterwards. Images of her sister, Kaley, standing over her; watching her; even touching her!

Amy shook her head and forced such thoughts from her mind. It was all just too weird. Amy decided she had to do something about her 'itch' once and for all. She knew it would only be so long before she got caught playing with herself. Perhaps if she got herself laid good and hard it would satisfy her for a little while. But who?

"Miss Hemmer?" Amy was jolted from her daydream, and suddenly there he was; her French tutor. "Are you awake?"

"Um, yes, I mean, oui Monsieur Dwyer."

Monsieur Dwyer rolled his eyes and shook his head with a wry smile, raising a chuckle from the rest of the class. He was beautiful: Perfect ebony skin; polished teeth; crisp suit; strong build. At only twenty-eight, he was relatively young compared to the rest of the college staff, but he was well respected and his age and personality meant he always got on well with the students.

One problem; his rumoured fling with the History teacher, Ms. Jessup. Olive skin; almond eyes; jet-black hair; lean, graceful figure. How was anyone to compete, much less a curvy, clumsy, pale red-head, studious to the point of geeky?

Amy sighed and unconsciously let her mind drift again. The things those two must do together...

Before she knew it, Amy was being roused by the bell. She'd missed the entire class. More to the point, she was sitting in a damp patch! Her cheeks flushed and she felt horribly self-conscious as the class headed out for lunch. She tried to get out as quickly as she could, but was stopped at the door.

"Miss Hemmer, could I speak with a moment?" Amy's heart caught in her throat and she slowly walked back to Mr. Dwyer's desk. "Amy, is everything ok? You seemed a little...distracted today?"

"Fine, Mr. Dwyer, really," Amy said shakily, half-turning just in case her wetness showed through the front of her jeans.

"Okay then, just as long as you realise you need to be paying careful attention in the coming weeks as we will be moving on to more advanced topics."

'God, you smell good,' Amy thought. She flashed her best false smile and nodded. "I'll be here, awake and alert, Mr. Dwyer. I promise."

"Good, then get yourself away."

Amy practically ran out of the classroom and straight to the nearest restroom. She locked the cubicle door, carefully put down her books and dropped the lid. She unbuckled her jeans, opened the fly and sat down, plunging her hand into her pants. She made immediate contact with her clit and had to cover her mouth to stop from letting out a deep, guttural moan. Frantically she pulled some old notes from a textbook, rolled them up and bit down on them. She then pushed her free hand up under her t-shirt and found her nipples as her other hand went to work on her pussy.

Blanking out the comings and goings of the restroom, Amy's mind went straight to Mr. Dwyer. No foreplay; no romantic setting; none of the usual fantasy trimmings; just the two of them, naked, Amy up against a wall with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, their glistening skin contrasting beautifully as he fucked her hard and she screamed his name, 'Monsieur Dwyer!', over and over.

In no time at all, Amy was coming in her jeans, her hand slick with her juices, her clit crying out for more.

In her mind she was pulled away from the wall, bent forward over Mr. Dwyer's desk and taken doggy-style as she held on tight to sides of the desk and howled in delight. She came again, harder than before, and fell to her knees. Mr. Dwyer took head in his hands and fucked her gaping mouth, forcing her to deep-throat him, using his pupil as nothing more than a fuck-toy, filling her mouth and throat with squirt after squirt of hot, sticky jizz.

Back in the cubicle, Amy had lost all control. She was finger-fucking herself through her third orgasm and had to replace her flimsy gag with her free hand to muffle her moans.

She imagined herself lifted from the floor and thrown backwards onto the desk, her knees pushed wide. Mr. Dwyer ducked to her juice-spewing cunt and lapped at her, shoving his long, wide tongue as deep as he could inside her, then sucking and tonguing her clit, driving her into a squealing frenzy.

But suddenly, it wasn't Mr. Dwyer eating her so expertly. His bald, black head was replaced by a mess of blonde locks and Kaley's eyes rose to meet her sister's.

Amy opened her eyes, breathless, frustrated and confused. "Fuck," she cursed quietly before trying to straighten herself up. One hand was shiny and sticky, the other sporting an angry-looking bite mark. Her nipples were poking prominently through her t-shirt, clinging tightly to her sweat-soaked body. Her panties were saturated and the stain would no doubt soak through to her jeans and her red hair was mattered and sticking to her glistening face.

She looked like she'd just been fucked, making it more the pity that she hadn't.