- - THE ENGLISH TEACHER - -
“kavita? Come in.”
kavita’s head snapped up at the sound of Mr. khan, the senior English teacher’s, voice. She had been leaning outside his door in the chilly winter air for a good twenty minutes after school; only ten minutes ago she caught Allison Tapping leaving for home and asked to borrow her black felt coat and purple scarf for the rest of the day.
“I’ll bring it back tomorrow,” she had promised.
Allison had removed her coat and scarf and handed it to kavita with a pitying smile. “Detention?”
“I don’t know about that yet, Als.” kavita wrapped the borrowed articles of clothing around her slim body and headed back for the English building. Mr. khan’s door had been locked.
As she waited she had fumed at the weatherman, whom her father lovingly called a “customary moron”, because he had told her and three thousand other viewers yet another nasty lie: that the day would be a perfect eighty five degrees. So that morning, despite what common sense told her, she had pulled on a metallic turquoise d****d tank top and dark wash mini skirt. It was not eighty five degrees, she thought to herself as she tugged on her skirt, trying to pull it lower so that it would provide more protection from the cold; try ten degrees lower.
Mr. khan, still waiting by the door, sighed, a facial gesture that made him look older than his twenty four years. “kavita, you and I both want to get on home, so I’ll make this quick.” He held the door open for her as she shuffled inside, her head bowed. His dark blue eyes followed her as she walked; her black four inch heels clicked on the cement and became muted on the carpeted floor of the classroom. It was supposed to be shortened day, kavita knew, and Vogue had ruined it for her. She could see the ripped remnants of the magazine in the recycling bin.
“I’m sorry, Mr. khan,” she said as Mr. khan closed the door behind her. “I didn’t mean to be offensive or rude during class. Shakespeare just isn’t my thing.”
Mr. khan did not sit down. “You surprised me kavita. I didn’t think that I would catch you of all people readinga magazine behind your textbook. You did so well with Voltaire last semester, why not Shakespeare? It’s a much easier read, in my opinion.”
“Candide was fun,” she replied with a grimace. “Midsummer’s Night Dream?—not so much.” She pulled on her skirt more, uncomfortable with the way Mr. khan was staring disapprovingly at her bare legs.
Or was he checking her out?
The thought made her smirk; that meant no detention for her—not that she would mind…. Mr. khan seemed to be the type that never took risks, but he, with his perfect blue eyes and chiseled features, was much too hot to pass up. What was it feel like to press herself against him? His skin was warm, a nice change from the outside weather. He watched her more than necessary as she tested her theory out and leaned onto one hip and released her tight grip on her coat, allowing it to fall open and reveal her low scoop necked tank top and short miniskirt.
“How old are you, kavita?” he asked her.
“Eighteen, Mr. khan,” she answered. She watched his expression with wide green eyes and allowed herself to pout a little. “Am I getting detention?”
He nodded, and her suspicions were confirmed as his eyes slowly drifted to her breasts and cleavage, barely contained within a too small bra that she had picked out that morning to give herself more cleavage. When she smiled, his eyes moved back to her face.
It was that sudden realization that allowed for her to be brazen. She started to remove her coat slowly, and looked up at Mr. khan through long lashes. Suddenly she was glad she had chosen to wear what she had worn; it had been for a daylight party at Jack Porter’s house, but who knew it would work in her favor?Carefully she lay Allison’s coat down on one of the desks, bending over that Mr. khan could see her arch her back ever so slightly. Her miniskirt puckered, revealing long, slim tanned legs accentuated by her patent leather pumps.
“kavita,” Mr. khan said, almost warningly. She smiled and allowed her mouth to relax; her nude colored lip glossed lips framed her teeth. Very carefully she lifted herself onto one of the desks and crossed her legs seductively.
“I’m really sorry, Mr. khan.” She leaned forward and ran her fingers through her blond hair as if in defeat. Remembering her d****d tank top, she leaned forward, allowing her Stanford graduated English teacher a look down her tank top and lace bra. “I won’t do it again.”
He came closer, his disheveled black brown hair falling into his denim blue eyes. “You’d better not.” kavita could see he determination in his eyes, but she was determined to have her way, making sure that he saw her run her eyes visibly downward toward his fly. When she cocked her eyebrow he breathed in sharply, his lips forming a thin line as she moaned audibly at the apparent bulge in his jeans. But she knew he could not take his eyes off her. She smiled and slid off the desk, closing the space between them. Her peaked breasts grazed his chest as she pressed against him, feeling his hardness against her thighs.
Mr. khan let out a suppressed groan of pleasure.
Tossing her hair to release a drift of her perfume, kavita ground her hips against his and whispered his first name when he grabbed her waist to keep her from moving away. Pressing an imprint of her open lips against his white shirt, she asked, “Why don’t we play, Mr. khan?”
His mouth landed on hers almost immediately as they locked eyes; his hands slid onto the small of her back, smashing her hips against his erection to ease himself of his torture. Laughing under his desperate kisses, kavita ran her fingers through his soft hair and let him take her. His mouth opened hers and she could feel his rough stubble against her flawless skin; the abrasion, plus his calloused and firm hands, felt like burns on her skin and sent warm tingles down to her toes. Grabbing his collar, she pulled him closer so that could unbutton his shirt and get at the skin she craved, touch the muscles that she knew lay beneath his ironed white shirt. Meanwhile, his hands dove under her tank top, slowly inching their way up to her bra.
“Stop,” she said, and pushed him away. Mr. khan’s eyes went from wild to a conscious calm, but kavita had no intention of depriving herself. She grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head, throwing the garment to the ground as she spun around and walked slowly, showing off her ass in her tight black miniskirt, to the door and locked it. Then she turned around, giving her teacher a full view of her breasts, mounds of soft milky white flesh cupped in a size C lace bra. Knowing that her teacher stared, she slid a hand into her right bra cup and moaned, her eyelashes fluttering. Mr. khan had his hands on her in two long strides.
His warm hands squeezed her breasts over their protective fabric as kavita ripped off his shirt and grabbed at his tanned muscular chest and arms, spearing her palms on his hot nipples. She let out hot gasp as sudden exhilaration overtook her; he had finally worked off her bra and pushed her hard against the wall, licking the curve of her left breast until her reached her nipple. Then he held his lips there, knowing full well that her body strained and squirmed for him. She was panting, saying his name, pushing his mouth closer to her body until it finally opened and enveloped her nipple in hot, arousing warmth.
She had only run her hands down the length of his strong arms when Mr. khan started to rip off her skirt, grabbing her ass and kissing her as if he didn’t which to do first. She smiled into his kiss and moaned as he thrust his erect cock against her, the friction of the classroom’s brick wall at her back. He was moaning into her right breast now and thrusting; she worked at his belt, ripping the leather puncture in her haste to loosen them. Taking her right hand she moved past his ripped abs and down to his navel, where she proceeded to thrum her cold fingertips where the hair started to lighten. She could feel his cock harden even more, and with short breath, she worked off his jeans until they stood against the wall in nothing but heels, panties, and boxers.
His kissed her neck and breasts before thrusting against her again. Scooping one strong arm under her, he carried her to his wide desk, dropping pencil sharpeners and papers to the floor in the process. She lay naked on the table, breathing hard and flushed, her rock hard nipples moving up and down as she panted. “You’re so damn hot, kavita,” he said, and came up between her legs and leaned over her; she could feel him, large and insistent, throbbing at her entrance. He groaned and bucked, but his boxers were still in the way…
Mr. khan closed his mouth over hers, his tongue making its way inside her mouth as his hand grabbed at her full breast. Arching with pleasure, she moaned and dragged him even closer, bucking as he slowly slid his finger up past her panties and inside her.
Her body lifted off the desk as his finger rubbed against her clit; she sucked in air and moaned, using her trembling fingers to take off her teacher’s boxers and kick them away with her heels. He helped her and they threw the last of their undergarments away onto the floor; kavita saw his manhood thick and erect, ready. She already wet, and she grabbed his hard seven inch cock in her hand and started to give him a hand job, rubbing her hand up and down his hard thick shaft. “It’s not going to fit,” she told him and moaned as her teacher inserted his finger into her pussy again.
His mouth traveled down her breasts and past her belly button. “You’re wet enough.” His tongue flicked inside of her and tasted her.
She writhed at his touch, his fingers sliding up her thighs as he came back up and rammed his tongue into her mouth. Just that had started to make her climax…. “Just give it to me, Mr. khan—”
He panted into her mouth, his cock getting harder and harder. “Beg me, Miss Kavita.”
She laughed and moaned at the same time; her body bucked and squirmed. “Please—”
He pulled his finger back and closed his mouth over her nipple and bit down. She squirmed, and pushed his head down more; he spread her legs until they almost hurt….
“If you ever read Vogue in my class again, kavita, I’ll—” And then he pushed the tip of his massive thick cock into her—she moaned so loud—and then f***ed himself inside her. “You’re so tight, baby!” She screamed in ecstasy, panting as she tried to maintain consciousness while watching him fuck her.
“You’ll what?” she whispered, and cried out his name when his started thrust rhythmically. She pulled herself up to a sitting position and wrapped her legs around his waist, needing to grab more of him, to touch something. One of his hands was on her ass as he fucked her; his hands pushed her even closer and she rode him hard, meeting his rhythm, her nails digging red streaks into his back. “You’ll what, Mr. khan?”
His eyes met hers. “I’ll—” She used one hand and f***ed his mouth to her nipple so that he could not say any more, his warm mouth pressed firmly against her soft breast. She ran a cold hand down his abdomen, touching the ripples in his stomach as he ground against her. He shuddered at her so-close touch.
Panting at his neck, she made her fingers travel back upwards and feel the smooth muscles in his back with her hands. She couldn’t stand it anymore; she dug her nails into his skin and voiced her needs.
“Fuck me harder, Mr. khan,” she whispered into his ear breathlessly and moved her leg for deeper penetration. “Come on Mr. khan, fuck me harder!”
He groaned as his thrusts became harder and harder and faster and faster; she held on to his muscular shoulders and cried out with pleasure; it felt so good. Better than anything—
“kavita!” he moaned, his back arching for full penetration. The friction was so intense she had trembled; she felt her climax coming as he stroked in and out of her body over and over. Her black heels bobbed up and down along with her big breasts as he fucked her harder and harder; it was an explosion of pleasure and pain at the same time when he finally came deep inside of her. The tight pressure was fantastic as she screamed with satisfaction; he pumped faster and faster and they both came together, their groans of bliss seeping from their interlocked lips.
Mr. khan ground his hips against kavita’s as she climbed off him, her heels meeting the floor for the first time in a while. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and continued to grind her pussy against his limp cock. “Bad girl,” he said, saying her name over and over as he grabbed her ass and smashed her against him.
Parting her lips just a little, she kissed his sore lips. He came against her belly and moved his hand from her ass to one of her swollen breasts and squeezed. Smiling, she pulled away to tease him, bending over ninety degrees so that she could stroke his member with a painted nail. Watching her stooped like that and stroking his cock, he started to stiffen again. She rubbed a hand against his upper thigh, teasing him and loving the effect she made on her teacher.
“I think I might just have to dump my boyfriend for you, Mr. khan,” she told him, arching her back so that she stood with her ass perfectly taut.
Mr. khan grabbed her roughly and thrust her tongue inside of her mouth, pulling back just enough to mutter, “Detention for you, Miss Kavita. Tomorrow after school at three.”
She laughed and closed the space between them, feeling her teacher’s cock harden again as she thrust her hips toward his. “Aww, Mr. khan. What a shame.”