This was not what I was expecting when I said I wanted a nice night with him. Not was I was expecting at all. And now my former school teacher is on top of me, thrusting his throbbing shaft in and out of me while I\u2019m looking at his gorgeous black hair while he smiles and moans at me.<\/p>\n
I was supposed to be the best writer in my English class, the best mathematician in my numeracy class, and the best scientist in my science class. So, why am I now a low-paid receptionist that works at a company that only wants me to file papers and make coffee?<\/strong><\/p>\n I hate the desk that I have to work on, I hate the skirt that I have to wear, and I hate the pompous pricks that walk pass my table every day. The men in the office look like they want me to work naked, and the women want me to work somewhere else.<\/p>\n I don\u2019t know why the people here think that way about me; it\u2019s not like the guys here are going to get anything from me. Maybe the view of my calves, but that\u2019s about it. They\u2019re all ugly inside and out; their thick-framed glasses and dry lips make me want to gag every time they leer at me. My boss doesn\u2019t really show any enthusiasm for the work ethic that I have here; my job is the only thing that\u2019s making me thrive at the moment. If I lose it, then my sanity is going to shut down. <\/p>\n Why don\u2019t I go out and try something enthralling or lively? Well, how could you when you\u2019re living in a capital city on minimum wage? Sure, I\u2019m surviving here, but that doesn\u2019t mean that I\u2019m living.<\/p>\n I moved here to get away from my narcissistic parents that put too much pressure on my shoulders.<\/p>\n \u2018Get As in everything, respect the wishes of your elders at all times, save your money for the future.\u2019 <\/p>\n What future do I have? I literally had to choose the lesser of two evils; go crazy under the rules and manipulation of my parents, or live on minimum wage alone in the capital. Well, it\u2019s like what they say, you\u2019re better off feeling alone when you are alone, than feeling alone when you\u2019re surrounded by people that suppose to comfort you. <\/p>\n Fuck, I\u2019m looking at my coffee and letting the heat dissipate as I speak. <\/p>\n I need to find somebody. <\/p>\n It\u2019s 4 PM and I\u2019m waiting for the hand to move faster than its usual pace. Fucking Malcolm was looking at my breasts as if they were ornaments, and he was moaning at me for not getting calling back a client that was meant to come in at 3:30 PM. When I told him that I couldn\u2019t get a hold of him, he snarled back and said \u2018Try harder.\u2019<\/p>\n You try harder, you fucking degenerate. <\/p>\n I mutter that phrase under my breath when he walked away; I hope that the amount of pork fat he eats will clog up his arteries and put him under cardiac arrest. Jeez, usually I\u2019m never this aggressive, but not having an outlet for a long while can do a lot to a 24-year-old woman. I carry on with finishing off my papers as if nothing happened, trying to tick off every square on my computer so my boss can give me half a smile and tell me to have a good night. <\/p>\n The main entrance door opens and a man in a grey suit and tie walks through it. Oh great, do you know what this means? It means that I\u2019m going to have to escort him to the office and keep him company until my line manager finishes with his 4:30 PM meeting, which won\u2019t be for the next hour and a half. Looks like I will be working overtime tonight. <\/p>\n I avoid looking at the man by staring at my blank computer screen, making it look like I actually have some work to do. But then, a familiar voice echoed in my ears.<\/p>\n \u2018Excuse me, Miss. I\u2019m Jonathan McCulloch and I was supposed to be here at 3:30 PM.\u2019<\/p>\n I look up and stare at the man out of shock. It\u2019s my old English teacher, Mr. McCulloch. I didn\u2019t actually think that it would be a McCulloch that taught me the difference between \u2018you\u2019re\u2019 and \u2018your\u2019 when I was younger; there are a lot of McCullochs in this city. <\/strong><\/p>\n \u2018Daria?\u2019 <\/p>\n Oh shit, what do I say?<\/p>\n \u2018Yeah, it\u2019s me, alright.\u2019<\/p>\n He makes the biggest smile that I\u2019ve seen in a long while, which lightens my heart up a bit. <\/p>\n But suddenly, my cheeks turn red because I wouldn\u2019t have wanted my old teacher to see me working in some rundown reception in the middle of a capital city; I would have wanted him to see me happy. <\/p>\n \u2018So, you\u2019re a receptionist now?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Well, it keeps the roof over my head.\u2019<\/p>\n Try not to break\u2026try not to break\u2026try not to break\u2026<\/p>\n \u2018It\u2019s understandable. It\u2019s hard to find your ideal job in a big capital city.\u2019 <\/p>\n A chuckle escapes from my lips, but I try to keep my cool; I don\u2019t want to come across as my 14-year-old self that was going through puberty, or like some woman that has already reached her mid-30s and hasn\u2019t accomplished anything exciting in her life yet. Mr. McCulloch notices that I\u2019m starting to get uncomfortable about the subject, so his eyes move around to think of something else to talk about. <\/p>\n \u2018Do you stay in contact with any of your old friends?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Not particularly.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018What about Sadie? You two were pretty close.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Too close, if you ask me. I’m surprised that we haven’t been misinterpreted as lovers back in those days.\u2019<\/p>\n I\u2019m not his student anymore, so it\u2019s acceptable for me to say crude jokes, if any of my jokes could be considered crude. He\u2019s laughing! Thank God.<\/p>\n \u2018What are you doing tonight?\u2019<\/p>\n Sitting in my studio apartment alone with 3 bottles of beer to drown out the failure of not being better than what I am now. <\/p>\n \u2018Nothing, why?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Would you like a free dinner tonight? I\u2019m staying in the capital for a couple of days, and it would be nice to hang out with a friendly face.<\/p>\n I\u2019m starting to blush; I haven\u2019t turned so red in front of him since my last year in high school. <\/p>\n \u2018Ugh, sure, I would love that\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n I\u2019m trying to keep it casual.<\/p>\n \u2018\u2026but you have to go and see Mr. Klemmen now, otherwise, I will be staying overtime.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Damn, yes! Will you still be here when I come back?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018For my old teacher, yes.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Great! We can exchange numbers and then I\u2019ll text you the place we\u2019ll be going too.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Great, I\u2019ll see you then.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018See ya.\u2019<\/p>\n I watch him hurry through the doors on the right, as I look at the clock on the wall, praying that the hand would move faster than its usual pace.<\/p>\n The Fiddle and Wine. That\u2019s the name of the restaurant that Mr. McCulloch told me to meet him at.<\/p>\n I\u2019ve heard of this place; it\u2019s so expensive, the appetisers are the same prices as a blusher from MAC. Did he get tenure or something? <\/p>\n I step inside the building wearing a dress that added 2 years to my age, and lipstick that makes me look like I\u2019m begging to have a cock in my mouth.<\/strong> Mr. McCulloch waves at me from the table on the far right, where he\u2019s wearing a baby blue shirt with his collar unbuttoned. We begin with a bottle of Chenin Blanc. <\/p>\n \u2018I\u2019m sorry that I arrived late to the meeting, I was dealing with something that took longer than it should?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018You know what, I\u2019ve been late to so many lessons when I was at school, so I\u2019m not going to judge you on that.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Yeah, I remember making you stay behind the class to tell you off.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018I preferred that what Mrs. Kimberly used to do to kids who came in late; she would shout how they were worse than the Italians, which to this day, I never understood why she said that.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018It\u2019s because she had an Italian husband before she remarried; he left her for a yoga teacher in Marseilles because she kept complaining to her friends that he was hounding her for sex.\u2019<\/p>\n I don\u2019t know why I\u2019m still blushing. I shouldn\u2019t be. We\u2019re both adults.<\/p>\n \u2018I didn\u2019t know that! Not that I would, since that kind of information would be restricted to pupils.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Of course.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018But I did remember a rumour going round that she was a frigid lesbian.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018What is it with you and lesbianism?\u2019<\/p>\n We both chuckle. <\/p>\n \u2018I don\u2019t know, do I look like one? Not that I believe that lesbians have a certain look; I’m not prejudiced.\u2019 <\/p>\n \u2018Well, have you been with a guy before?\u2019<\/p>\n Why am I getting more flustered than when I first saw him at the reception? Is it because I\u2019m not bound by the student\/teacher relationship anymore? Do I have the opportunity to date him if I wanted to? Before I find the answer to those questions, why is my ex-teacher asking me about men?<\/p>\n \u2018Of course, I\u2019ve been with a couple of guys in my lifetime.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018When was the last one?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Two years ago, we were living together until he wanted to do a new course at a different institution.\u2019 <\/p>\n \u2018And you stayed behind.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018I didn\u2019t exactly have a choice.\u2019<\/p>\n Things are turning awkward again. <\/p>\n \u2018What is it that you really want to do? You\u2019re obviously not happy being a receptionist.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018I want to be a newspaper journalist.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Really?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Yeah, I wanted to intern at the agency back at home, but my circumstances have changed and I needed to find a job as soon as possible.\u2019<\/p>\n If Mr. McCulloch was my PSHE teacher, I would have confessed all of my homely woes to him. <\/p>\n \u2018I see. Well, shit happens.\u2019<\/p>\n I never heard him swear before in my life. It sounds quite attractive, actually. <\/p>\n \u2018How old are you?\u2019<\/p>\n Why the fuck did I ask a question like that?<\/p>\n \u2018Shit, I shouldn\u2019t have asked that question. I\u2019m sorry!\u2019<\/p>\n He laughed out loud. Literally. <\/p>\n \u2018I\u2019m 38. When you left high school, I just turned 30.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Well, you don\u2019t look like you\u2019ve aged.\u2019<\/p>\n I can feel my demeanour growing timid with every breath I take, and I can feel it getting worse with every look that Mr. McCulloch gave me.<\/strong> It wasn\u2019t the kind of look that I always get at the office. In fact, it\u2019s the complete opposite. <\/p>\n It\u2019s a muted blend of \u2018You\u2019re really pretty and I think I can like you more\u2019 and \u2018I can comfort your body in more ways than one.\u2019 Comfort. That\u2019s a word I haven\u2019t thought about since this morning. The waiter comes to our table with our meals at hand. <\/p>\n \u2018After dinner, do you want to come back to my hotel room for a chat?\u2019<\/p>\n The words \u2018hotel room\u2019 and \u2018chat\u2019 tells me two things. One, he wants to talk about my work situation in greater depth. Two, after that conversation, he wants to fuck me. But wouldn\u2019t it be weird if my former teacher ravages me on his bed?<\/p>\n He opens the door to his \u2018en-suite\u2019 room; it was more of a two bedroom penthouse. Every wall, every countertop, and every surface is smooth and white, where the only other colours that are allowed to exist in the room are black and chestnut brown; black isn\u2019t even a colour. <\/p>\n \u2018Can I get you a glass of champagne?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018You drink champagne? You don\u2019t seem like the kind of guy that does that.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018What kind of guy do you think I am?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018I don\u2019t know\u2026the type that\u2019s laid-back.\u2019<\/p>\n He chuckles once more.<\/p>\n \u2018Let\u2019s lay back on this sofa.\u2019<\/p>\n He gazes at me as I lean back on the cushion, and pour a glass of bubbly for me to sip on. We sit together and look at each other until one of us begins a new conversation. <\/p>\n \u2018What did you think of me while you were in High School?\u2019<\/p>\n Jeez, how do I answer a question like that?<\/p>\n \u2018What do you mean?\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018You kept blushing today exactly in the way that you used to when you were in my classes.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Uh, well, I thought you were handsome, but every girl that\u2019s coming of age would.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Do you still think I\u2019m handsome now?\u2019<\/p>\n I don\u2019t know whether it\u2019s actually him or the booze talking, but I know that he wants to take things further.<\/p>\n \u2018Well, if I\u2019m honest, yes, I still find you attractive.\u2019<\/p>\n Mr. McCulloch continues to gaze at me.<\/p>\n \u2018Mr. McCulloch.\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Please, call me Jonathan; we\u2019re not in school anymore.\u2019<\/p>\n I look down at my drink and trace the glass with my right forefinger. <\/p>\n \u2018Unless, you want to pretend we\u2019re in school again\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n My former teacher places his hand on my cheek, rubs it with his thumb, and pulls me into a kiss that I was half expecting to happen. He takes the glass of champagne out of my hand and replaces it with his palm; it was warm and soft, just like how I want my heart to feel. <\/strong><\/p>\n He pushed the weight of his body on top of me, and let my back gently rub against the silk texture of the sofa throw. I\u2019m not sure what to make of this right now, but I\u2019ll just go with the flow. <\/p>\n Mr. McCulloch turns me around and pulls the zipper down with his teeth, unhooking my bra after nibbled on the skin of my back. I\u2019m so embarrassed to the point that I\u2019m holding my cleavage as if my breasts are going to fall off. <\/p>\n With a little amount of force, he pins my wrists above my head to let my tits hang out for him to see. He hasn\u2019t spoken a word yet, but his eyes tell me everything that I want to hear. <\/p>\n Like the way I traced my finger around my glass, he feels my nipples with his lips. The moistness from his tongue makes the crevice between my legs wet; it feels so good. <\/p>\n Before I know it, one of his hands found its way to my pussy, rubbing my clit back and forth as if it\u2019s injured, and needs someone to tender to it. My hips begin to grind against the pressure of his hand; the sensation is fantastic. <\/p>\n After minutes of toying with my clit, rubbing it fast and stroking it slow, Mr. McCulloch drags his upper body down to see how wet my underwear is. I feel the fabric getting pulled away from my skin, and his tongue exploring every surface of my cunt.<\/strong> God, this is amazing. Weird, but amazing. <\/p>\n The way he flicks my clit with his mouth makes me want to fuck his face hard, but I know that he wants some euphoria of his own too.<\/p>\n He rises from his position and begins to slowly undress in front of me. <\/p>\n \u2018You need a new lesson.\u2019<\/p>\n He whispers to me, right before he unveils his majestic manhood in front of my eyes. I can tell from the look of it that it\u2019s begging for some attention, and it is attention that it\u2019s going to get. <\/p>\n I spread my legs further apart to show him where to push his shaft in, and he climbs onto me once more before he thrusts his hot cock deep inside me. I gasp as I dig my nails into his skin; he groans, but it sounded like a good groan. <\/p>\n He begins his pace slowly, which allows me to see his hips rise up and down, and pump me with every pleasure that he wants to give. No words are being said or whispered at this point, but they don\u2019t need to be; the way I am moaning is enough information for him to know that I am enjoying it. The speed of his fucking increases as my jaw opens more, before he lifts my thighs up and pounds my pussy like a primal hunter. <\/p>\n This was not what I was expecting when I said I wanted a nice night with him. Not was I was expecting at all. And now my former school teacher is on top of me, thrusting his throbbing shaft in and out of me while I\u2019m looking at his gorgeous black hair while he smiles and moans at me.<\/p>\n \u2018I\u2019m sorry, but I\u2019m going to cum!\u2019<\/p>\n \u2018Just do it\u2026do it.\u2019 <\/p>\n He pulls his cock out and climaxes around the outside of my cunt in the way that pornstars cum all over each other. <\/strong>I can\u2019t say that I\u2019m not disappointed that I didn\u2019t cum, but hey, men are more sensitive than women, and it\u2019s more sex than I\u2019ve had within the last two years. I lean over to one side of the sofa to grab a tissue, but then Mr. McCulloch grabs my wrist once more and stares at me intensely.<\/p>\n \u2018The lesson isn’t over yet.\u2019<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" This was not what I was expecting when I said I wanted a nice night with him. Not was I was expecting at all. And now my former school teacher is on top of me, thrusting his throbbing shaft in and out of me while I\u2019m looking at his gorgeous black hair while he smiles and moans at me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17,"featured_media":5602,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"iawp_total_views":53,"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[421,8,420],"class_list":["post-5600","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-erotic-stories","tag-erotic-stories-2","tag-sex","tag-sex-stories"],"yoast_head":"\n8 Hours Earlier\u2026<\/h2>\n
4 Hours Earlier….<\/h2>\n
1 Hour Earlier\u2026<\/h2>\n