He was a broken boy, and perhaps that's why she was attracted to him. The half lidded eyes every morning, the subtle attempts at trying to remain awake during class, the awkward way in which he moved his body, indicating a soreness that no 18 year old should experience, attracted her.
Perhaps it was her need to nurture... or to fix, that drew her in. The wording didn't matter, after everything that had happened, blurred lines were her home. But she could still clearly remember the first time she spoke with him, she had placed a hand on his bicep, the muscle he carried not going unnoticed by her. She had asked him if he had been ok, his fight against sleep that morning hadn't gone well. And he simply replied that he had worked a little later the night before, nothing to worry about. But it had been the eyes that pierced through her. He was telling her a lot more than what he had.
That was when she got hooked. Curiosity led her to discover that he had lost his parents at the age of 14, and all up until he turned 18, he had been shoved from foster home to foster home. In the school's registrar, his address reflected a shabby little apartment by the docks. She wanted to go there, to meet him, to offer him some hope that things would get better, but she didn't, not yet.
Instead, she would offer him to come eat with her in her classroom during lunch break, and she would bring extra food, just in case he didn't get enough. But his tall muscular frame that shouldn't have been on a full time highschooler did tell her otherwise.
They would talk, and she would take careful note of every word he spoke, and of every detail he left out. And with every sentence he spoke, a chain would form in her heart, tying her to him.
And so, it came as no surprise to her when she asked him to stay after school one day. He'd tried to decline, citing the fact that he had to work in a few hours, but after she insisted, he agreed and came back after school.
Having him in front of her and all of the judgmental eyes of her other students and all other teachers gone, she felt the cage of societal norms break. Without warning, she pulled him in for a kiss, her small stature requiring her to stand on tippy toes.
To her surprise, he didn't pull back, rather, he wrapped a muscular arm around her waist and squeezed her petite body against his. She couldn't help the purr of approval that escaped her. Every single neuron in her brain was screaming at her that this was wrong, that this was her student, and despite the fact that he was of age, it still didn't make it right.
But as his tongue dominated over hers, any moral fight that had been taking place died. She moaned into his mouth, running her hands over his chest, feeling every fiber of muscle flex. This man was in desperate need of some de-stressing, and her body was going to be the one to provide it.
She interrupted the kiss and grabbed his hand, leading him to the back of her classroom where she had a couch for her students to sit at and read when they were done with their work. She sat next to him, kissing him while her hands slowly traveled down to his pants. Hearing him groan in approval was all that she needed to hear. She unzipped his pants and reached inside.
Her hand grasped about, trying to find his cock, only to touch upon his leg. She frowned, where was it? It wasn't until she felt his leg pulse that she realized that his leg wasn't a leg at all, it was his cock.
Holy fuck.
He smirked and pulled his pants all the way down, revealing to her his cock. He had worn no underwear, and as his cock came into view, she understood why. There was no point in wearing underwear. It was meant to conceal, and there was far too much cock flesh to be concealed. Hell, there was too much cock for her to truly comprehend. It seemed that her pussy, however, comprehended perfectly well. It gushed out her juices in a mini orgasm.
She bit her lip and tried gripping his cock, but her hand wasn't big enough to encircle the thick diameter of it. The weight of it was nearly too much for her to try and lift. It didn't matter, however, and she knew it. She needed to be fucked by this mosnter of a dick. She had grown to love this man, regardless of his bitch breaking tool.
She shifted from her spot on the couch till she was face to face with the head of his cock. From this position she could see his nuts. God, they were so fucking huge. Each bigger than her hand, in fact. From that position she could also smell his cock. Another gush of juices ran down her leg.
He had such a strong musk. It was clear that he hadn't had the chance to shower before school today, but she didn't care. He was such a hard working man and she could take care of him. She'd give him a tongue bath, no matter how badly his cock smelled or tasted.
And so she did. She stuck out her tongue and ran it up and down the side of his cock. The taste on her tongue was a mixture of sweat and piss. It was like his cock was a musk flavored popsicle. She loved it.
