Mr. Steiker had caught Stacy and me fooling around in the west stairwell when we should have been at homeroom. It wasn’t my fault. Stacy had been teasing me for not having a boyfriend. Betting me I didn’t even know how to kiss right. I wanted to prove her wrong, and I think we got a little carried away. Not that I meant to. Not with another girl. But it was kind of fun. Until we got caught.

He gave us both detention.

I showed up after the end of school in Mr. Steiker’s lab classroom. Stacy was nowhere to be seen. The teacher scowled and sat me at the end of a big lab table and said he’d deal with “Miss Stacy” later, but I had to sit and watch a film on being a “responsible, healthy young lady”.

He turned the lights low and started up the video on the classroom whiteboard. There was something glitchy about it in the start. Maybe from the conversion from obviously old film to digital. There was at least a minute of weird light patterns and sounds that almost gave me a headache, but a glance over at Mr. Steiker’s stern face made me look back at the screen and try to see what was going on. Eventually the picture cleared to an old, washed-out color film about etiquette and behavior. It must have been from the 1950′s from the hair and the way people were dressed, and I found myself smirking at how silly it was. But I watched.

And then, every now and then I saw a flash of something on the screen – a single frame of another image I couldn’t quite make out. Around the sixth or seventh time, the flash lingered a moment longer and it looked for the life of me like a porn scene. Two naked bodies.

The next flash made it definite. A woman on her back, legs spread wide. A man between them. And then it was the 1950′s again. I was fascinated. Enthralled.

The film played on, prim and proper girls being asked out to the soda fountain by immaculately groomed boys. But the flashes came more often, lasting longer – long enough so I could begin see the bodies move. With bits of audio now. The sounds of grunting. The sounds of fucking. I glanced over to see whether Mr. Steiker had noticed what some vandal had done to his film, but he wasn’t at his desk anymore and I didn’t spare the time to look for him because my eyes were drawn back to the screen by a feminine moan.

The scene was now mostly the fucking couple, interrupted only briefly with smiling good girls from the 1950’s and odd-colored, shapeless flashes. I stared as the woman being fucked arched her back and opened her legs wider, and tingles went down my spine. The glistening cock thrust into the wet pussy over and over on the screen, and I felt myself getting wet, dampness seeping into the fabric of my panties.

The view on the screen began to zoom in between the woman’s legs, and just then I felt warm hands on my knees, under the table. I was startled, but didn’t even jump. The hands slid slowly between to my thighs and pushed my legs apart. I stared at the screen, at the closeup of a cock fucking a pussy deep and hard, as a nose and tongue pushed into the wet crotch of my shorts. The woman on the screen moaned, and I gasped as fingers hooked and pulled my shorts and panties to the side and a hot tongue licked up the length my slit. I bucked slowly forward in my chair, watching the fucking, moaning with the woman on the screen as fingers slid along and between the folds of my sex. I reached down to pull the head between my legs closer as the tongue licked, and mouth sucked.

The close-up fucking on the screen went on and on. Cock hard, pussy dripping, woman sighing and moaning.

Two hands, strong and masculine, slid down my shoulders to cup and squeeze my breasts as the tongue began sliding as deep into me as it could go, fucking me like a tiny cock. A finger slid into me, then two, and I moaned louder. It wasn’t enough. I whined. Fingers found and gently pinched my hard nipples.

“That’s a good young lady.” Mr. Steiker’s voice in my ear, but from far away.

The hands on my breasts guided me upward. The chair beneath me pushed back and away. The mouth pressed between my legs pushed forward and up. Hands on my legs guided me to half stand, while those on my breasts, pulled me forward, until I was bent over the table. The hands on my legs slid up to the waist of my shorts, and tugged them and my panties down, bearing my ass, down my legs, off. The hands returned to my inner thighs and pushed. I spread my legs, my hands gripping the table edge as if to keep me from falling off the world. All through it I stared at the screen, panting in time to the thrusts of the cock, and the manipulations on my body.

“Miss Stacy.” Mr Steiker’s voice said. He was above me. Behind me, his hands resting on the lab table, palms up, gripping my breasts firmly through my T-shirt and bra. Below the table, the hands on my legs moved away, but the tongue stayed.

On the screen, the cock fucked the pussy.

There was the tinkle of a belt buckle. The sound of a zipper. Mr Steiker’s hands moved under my T-shirt. Under my bra.

The cock fucked the pussy.

Fingers squeezed and rubbed my nipples. Tongue teased my clit. Something blunt and fat and hot nudged between my lower lips and then slipped away.

The cock fucked the pussy harder. It looked bigger, angrier.

“Miss Stacy.” The words were a command.

The nudging presence slid back to my vagina, guided and held there by slick fingers.

“Miss Stacy tells me you’re a virgin.”

I groaned as the pressure on my pussy mounted and stretched me open. The tongue on my clit never stopped. Butterflies danced in my stomach and I was rising to climax.

On the screen, the cock thrust one last time and stopped, fully buried in the stretched pussy. The balls underneath it had pulled up. The tiny part of the shaft still exposed pulsed as it pumped out its load. Then, all at once-

The woman in the film cried out in pleasure.

The mouth below me sucked hard on my clit.

The cock barely nosing past my entrance drove savagely forward, tearing through my hymen, spearing me completely in one thrust.

My scream matched the one on the screen. 

Pain, pleasure, orgasm.

The scene on the screen faded to flashes of color as I came harder than I ever had masturbating and fantasizing.

Then, behind me, Mr. Steiker started moving.

The cock fucked the pussy.

The pain of Mr. Steiker’s deflowering thrust was long gone. I’d cum hard around the first thrust of my first cock, but each thrust had stung my newly opened pussy. Now there was only mindless pleasure.

I still stared at the projection on the wall. The colored patterns held my attention, and I was unable to look anywhere else. The patterns shifted and took on a new form, blurring into another view of a woman’s widespread legs and open, wet pussy. From a corner of the screen a girl’s head descended, mouth open, tongue out. The girl lowered her face to the pussy and began licking, and sucking it all over. Hands came from off screen to press the girl’s head down as sighs and moans began, interspersed with my grunts from the fucking cock behind me.

I stared at the licking scene while the cock fucked me. It felt right. It felt like it was supposed to be like this. Like I was being good. Like I was supposed to…

I came again, squeezing my eyes shut as I shuddered. My pussy muscles clamped down on the cock, but it still fucked me through it. It felt even better than the first time because there was no pain. It was amazing. It was right.

Glowing, I opened my eyes to watch the screen again, but it was blocked by something. A girl, sitting on the table in front of me. Naked, legs open in front of my face. Wet slit inches from my nose. I looked up at her face and tried to recognize her as if from a distant memory. Stacy?

She smiled down at me and scooted forward. I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and tasted her as she pressed her crotch into my face. She let out a happy groan and lay back onto the table, arching her back and presenting herself to me. I could see the screen again now, the girl licking the pussy close up. I copied what I saw, and was rewarded by a flood of juices and Stacy’s hands pulling at my hair.

I made Stacy cum twice, I think. I couldn’t remember. But she was gone now. It was just me, and the screen, and Mr. Steiker’s cock fucking relentlessly. Untiringly.

His hands were now at my hips, holding me as he shoved his cock hard, all the way in, making his skin slap against my ass.

The projected scene changed yet again. Fucking close up, like so long ago at the very beginning. Like what Mr. Steiker was doing to me. On the screen the fucking was fast and frantic, ending with a last rough shove. The angle showed the buried cock pulsing in the trembling pussy. It showed a little hint of white at the junction of shaft and vulva as cum was forced out between them.

The scene shifted, another angle, another, thinner, longer cock; another, dark-rose pussy, another cum, shaft pressed fully inside.

Mr. Steiker’s pace and forcefulness increased. I could hear him growl below my own incoherent noises and the sounds of sex from the screen.

The screen showed chocolate brown cock splitting pale pink vulva, white cream overflowing.

Mr. Steiker was taking my breath away. He was fucking me back to the edge.

The screen showed a grotesquely fat cock throbbing visibly inside obscenely stretched pussy lips.

Something big was coming, building. I whined in unfocused desperation.

The screen showed a cock viciously pounding pussy from behind, in time to Mr. Steiker’s thrusts.

Exactly in time.

They were his thrusts. The scene was a live video shot from below, of him fucking me. The pinkish froth at the speared pussy lips and dripping down the thighs on the screen was my virginal blood mixed with my own fluids, dripping down my thighs. I could feel it now.

I stared in shock and wonder as Mr. Steiker roared behind me and jerked forward, hilting his cock in me. His hands held me firmly in place. I felt the first thick jet of his cum deep inside me while watching the pulse of his shaft on the screen.

And then the world broke open and I was cumming too. It was all cumming. I watched him, felt him fill me. I squeezed him inside, hot and tight, making him, milking him. It was perfect. It would never stop. It could never stop.

I passed out.

“Miss Ivy!”

I startled awake at the table as Mr. Steiker approached, looking annoyed. He snapped again, this time right in front of my face.

“Detention is not for sleeping. I see you haven’t learned anything at all today. I’ll see you back here tomorrow. And you, too Miss Stacy.”

Stacy stopped snickering.

“But Mr. Steiker-”

“I’m not hearing it, young lady. This room. Tomorrow after school. Both of you.”

We got up to leave. It was pretty weird. I must have slept most of the two hours – I only remembered the cheesy 50’s setting of the ‘educational’ film. Still, after that kind of nap, I felt almost exhausted.

“Thanks a lot, Ivy,” Stacy grumped at me, “you got us two days in detention.”

“Hey, it wasn’t all my fault! I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s ok,” she sighed. “I forgive you.”

Whether or not there was anything for her to forgive, I let it slide. We walked home together quietly. Stacy’s house was a couple blocks closer to school than mine, and in the same direction. When we got there, just before she turned down her walk, she stopped and turned to me, a strange smile on her face.

“I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Make what up? Oh come on-“

She snapped her fingers twice.

“Miss Ivy!” she said.

I followed her to her house.

I rose up and sank down on Mr. Steiker’s cock, just like the woman on the screen was doing to the man below her. I made sure to squeeze him tight inside as I pulled up, like he’d taught me to do. It made him groan, and it felt good too. I knew from before it helped him cum faster, but this was the first time I was doing it all. Mr. Steiker was just lying back and watching. But every time I squeezed, his neutral expression shifted to something else, and showed me I was doing it right.

I’d been going to Detention for most of two weeks now. Sometimes with Stacy, but increasingly without her. Though I’d been going over to Miss Stacy’s house every day after school to do homework.

The angle on the screen shifted letting me see how the woman used her hips to undulate her body as she impaled herself. I copied her as best I could, and then noticed something. The man in the film was caressing her hips with is hands, and then her tummy. Her belly, as she rose and sank, was kind of rounded. Her lover’s hands emphasized the shape. She wasn’t fat, though – actually thinner than me. It dawned on me she was pregnant. Without thinking, my hand went to my tummy, as if to reassure myself it was still flat. Mr. Steiker’s big hand covered mine, then slipped under it to rub my tummy just above where the tip of his cock pressed into me when I sank all the way down on him.

“That’s right, Miss Ivy.”

My eyes widened and I found myself looking down into his face.

“That’s what’s going to happen… That’s what you’re going to do… That’s what you’re for.”

He said each short sentence as I sank down fully on to him, inhaling as I squeezed him when I rose. I didn’t stop. I was a well behaved girl.

“You should be ripe… Just about now… Fresh and fertile…”

I wondered how he might know that, then realized Miss Stacy could have told him. Must have. A tiny terrified voice in the back of my mind screamed at me to stop. To get up and run. But it got farther away each time I sank fully down on the cock. Each time the cockhead pressed up against the entrance to my womb. My teacher’s hand rubbed little circles on my belly as I fucked myself on him.

“I have to warn you… If you don’t stop… You’re going to… fuck yourself pregnant…”

A blurry memory flash hit, a girl in my class, fall semester, dropping out because she’d gotten knocked up. Last year it had been the Prom queen. Memories jumbled, then fell apart when he groaned as I pulled up, squeezing him. I sank down again, moaning louder. If anything I was moving faster, grinding down harder, fluttering, squeezing on the way down and the way up.

“That’s a good girl… Good girl… Good girl…”

I fucked him, driving us both toward orgasm. I was going to make us both cum. It was what I was for. I was a good girl.

Categories: Cassie Andra, Erotic Fiction, The Wrong AlphabetTags: , ,

Cassie Andra

Old enough to know better and not care. Vanilla on the outside. Vanilla through and through, except for the mind. You don't want to go there, but I'll give you peeks. Be warned: erotica themes include standard fun, but also the taboo-est of the taboo. Coming of age, infidelity, family relations, dubious and non-consent. Every throbbing inch of it is, however, fantasy, and should be treated as such.


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