School Rules

Nobody questioned the rules. If your name came up, there was nothing you could do about it. We’d all seen what happened to those who refused. And, everyone’s turn came eventually. Mine was the start of December, just before Christmas break. I remember feeling my stomach twist walking into the classroom and seeing my name on the “Season” bulletin board for the first time.

That was the only warning I got really, because, as usual, once the bell rang, the day’s schedule began immediately. Mr. Hoff entered the room and we all quieted immediately, Once the door closed, we sat and watched him take his clothes off silently, and lean back on his desk. He turned to look at us, scanning the classroom coolly until his gaze settled on me. Then, as if on command, his cock rose from between his legs, thickening and lengthening. We, I, had seen this happen every day since the start of the year, but having it happen while he stared at me, made butterflies flutter in my stomach. His stare, the heartbeat throb of his shaft, made no question about who and what that cock was stiffening for.

I knew better than to wait too long. I got up from my seat on only slightly shaky legs and walked to the teacher’s desk steadily as I could. As I stepped onto the desk chair and then the desk itself, I heard the others getting up from their seats, but only faintly, My eyes, my whole attention moved back and forth between Mr. Hoff’s cock and his face. His expression was impassive, yet still commanding, as I stood on the desk and placed my feet to either side of him, just as seven of my other classmates had done so far this year.

I closed my eyes for a moment, in silent prayer before hiking up my skirt and pulling my panties aside. After today, I knew, I wouldn’t be wearing panties at school again until my season was out. I squatted low, lower, feeling my pu– cunt flower open. Actually, after today, until we went home for vacation, it was no longer my pussy, it was Mr. Hoff’s cunt. I watched and guided myself, gasping as the head of the teacher’s cock nudged between my open labia. It was hotter than I had expected, and I was wetter than I thought possible. I’d denied being aroused by any of this over the semester so far, but the fact I was almost dripping now gave the lie to that.

I sensed, but ignored the other girls in the class now clustered around Mr. Hoff and me, some of my friends even touching me reassuringly. Those who had already been where I was knew what was about to happen.

I felt the twitch and throb of the cock head, and saw the hunger in Mr. Hoff’s eyes the instant I drew my breath and dropped myself down. I sank several centimeters down on his cock before my reacting body clamped down and stopped the descent, but it was enough for the hard shaft to spear up into me and break my hymen. I cried out, tears instantly in my eyes as the ripping sting in my centre shocked me. I had seen some of the others struggle with doing it slowly, and had made up my mind I wouldn’t prolong it. For an agonizing, leg shaking moment, I regretted the decision.

I opened my eyes, and saw Mr. Hoff’s face, contorted ever so slightly with pleasure – with lust – for me. I stared down at him, focusing on that as I made myself sink farther and farther down on him, stifling my sobs, impaling myself, filling myself with a cock, with a man for the first time. Becoming a woman more and more with every centimetre of descent.

Through the pain of my first opening, the strange new sensation of being filled for the first time became more and more undeniable. I almost jumped when I felt the shaft of the cock throb inside me, and I did gasp in surprise as my own inner muscles reflexively squeezed in response.

Then, I realized I sitting completely on Mr. Hoff. I looked down and saw my pelvis firmly pressed against his. I couldn’t see the thick, long shaft now completely inside me, but I could feel every millimetre of it. I knew what I had to do next. Gingerly, I leaned forward and put my hands on the desk on either side of my teacher, and carefully raised my hips up. I couldn’t stop the hiss of pain as the veined shaft dragged against my torn virginity, but I also couldn’t stop the rush of something else – was it pleasure? – from radiating through my body.

I looked down again at the shaft now emerging from me, glistening with red-streaked moisture. It had been inside me. It had taken me.

I rose higher, feeling myself empty, until it seemed only the head of the cock was still inside, and then, as I knew I had to, reversed my direction and sank down again. I felt hands on me then, classmates touching my knee, my side, a hand on my lower back. My classmates – those who had been here before me, and those yet to be in my place – were watching everything. Some of the touches might have been sympathetic, or trying to soothe me. Some felt like they were guiding, even urging me back down on the cock.

I settled back onto his lap for another moment, and it felt like he was even more inside me now than the first time – a pressure deep inside me made me recall the biology text diagrams of the vagina and cervix – and I gasped even as I began pulling up again. All the way up and then down…

The pain faded with each rise and fall, and the filling, stretching sensation that replaced it was so different, so new, I didn’t register it as pleasure until I heard my own moan, and realized I was not raising and lowering myself on Mr. Hoff’s penis; I was fucking myself on his cock.

I looked up to his face again, and saw him watching me. His sternness was still there, but his own pleasure – pleasure I was giving him – was just below the surface.

My pleasure was more obvious, or so it seemed to me. I didn’t recognize the grunts that came from my own mouth, but they sounded undeniably sexual. Not all the other girls had sounded this way. Lilian had cried non stop. Agatha had been utterly quiet, Mary had moaned quietly, and then louder and louder as she neared climax.

That was the final requirement. I had to reach orgasm myself, while fucking Mr. Hoff. Even as I impaled myself on him over and over, harder and faster I didn’t know that I could do it. Anna had needed to be patiently instructed by Mr. Hoff how to finger herself while she rode him. Lilian – again poor Lilian had had even more trouble, and Mr. Hoff had to resort to instructing us to take the vibrating wand from his desk and press it between her legs, making her scream and spasm. Unable to control her legs anymore, we lifted and lowered her onto him until until she shrieked and came.

All of this flashed through my mind as my eyes remained locked on Mr. Hoff’s and I continued fucking him. It looked like he could see right through me, like he knew what I was thinking and feeling even better than I did. Maybe he did, because I did not recognize what was rising in me – a tingling – an electric charge of pleasure building with every fuck. I whined, and I heard my own wantonness, felt my rising desperation, and I didn’t know what to do but fuck harder, dropping myself down onto him until the slapping of my thighs on him became counterpoint to my stuttering sounds.

And then it struck. My climax seized me and I felt like I was falling into pure ecstatic pleasure. I slammed my hips down, arched my body, and snapped my head back, crying out as my pussy – as the cunt that belonged to Mr. Hunt – clamped down hard on his hot, hard cock and I came; the first true orgasm of my life. All my little masturbatory experiments paled to nothing against the feeling of being filled like a woman is meant to be.

And even through the storm of my own pleasure I felt him, Mr. Hoff, stiffen under me. He’d been nearly motionless, so patient while I’d dutifully deflowered myself on him, and stock still as I fucked myself on him in increasing frenzy. But now I felt his thighs flex under me, hips bucking up to jab his cock yet one last millimetre deeper, pressing right up against the entrance to my womb as the shaft throbbed thicker inside me, and jerked, and erupted. Mr. Hoff was cumming in me, and I was cumming on him. I wasn’t even aware of the hands of my classmates pressing against me, holding me down him. We always did that, because sometimes, like with Emily, the feeling of a man cumming in her for the first time, and the knowledge of what might happen to her – what was going to happen to her – made them panic and try to get away. We had all held our orgasming, pleading, crying classmate down on Mr. Hoff’s ejaculating cock until he’d told us to let go, and let us comfort Emily after.

They held me down now, too, but they didn’t need to. I was pressing myself down hard onto Mr. Hoff, my inner muscles milking his cock frantically, squeezing every drop of semen into my greedy, shaking, climaxing body. Every throb, every pulse, every spurt of his cum seemed to take me higher, until I completely overloaded and collapsed onto his chest, exhausted, still shaking, still clenching him inside like I couldn’t stop. I realized I was sobbing quietly, and didn’t know why.

In a daze, I pulled, or was pulled, off of Mr. Hoff. His cock was still mostly hard, and the feeling of it dragging out of me made me shudder and groan. A warm ooze of pink-stained cum flowed from my newly opened cunt, making feel both empty and complete at the same time. Anna, whose bump showed to most plainly of all the girls because of her small frame and the fact her name had come up in early September, helped me step out of my panties and used them to clean up between my legs as best as could be done. She pinned them to the bulletin board under my name, where they would stay for the whole time my name was there. We returned to our seats as Mr. Hoff finished getting dressed and started putting the day’s lesson plan on the blackboard. My chair had a towel on it now, to catch the cum that would be leaking from me for some time yet.

In the mid afternoon, between Geography and French, Headmaster Jones stopped by the room, and with one imperious look around the room, began disrobing as well. He was much more portly than Mr. Hoff, but his cock was not quite as big. I was not obligated to cum on him, because my cunt belonged to Mr. Hoff, but I was obligated to fuck him until he came in me. His lust was far less subtle and his hunger undisguised as I settled on him, and the soreness between my legs made me go slowly at first, but I got used to it sooner than I might have expected, and discovered I could actually feel how his cock was different from Mr. Hoff’s. He also came a lot faster, and made satisfied animalistic noises as he did. The rest of the class wasn’t around me this time, but Mr. Hoff was, to make sure I was settled fully on the Headmaster as he pumped his cum into me. The one surprising thing at that moment was that I actually could feel him cumming. Maybe it was because I wasn’t stretched quite so tightly, or filled so deep, but the thick liquid surge of ejaculation inside me was a clear new, ultimately intimate sensation as my second ever cock jerked and jetted.

When I pulled off this time, a large quantity of semen poured out. It spattered onto the desk and floor, and trickled down my thighs as I stood up and straightened my skirt. Other girls in the class cleaned the desk, and the Headmaster, as I used my soiled towel to clean myself, and sat back down on a fresh one. By that time, the Headmaster was gone, and there was French vocabulary on the board.

Throughout the next two weeks, this was how it would go. Every morning would begin with me straddling and fucking and cumming on Mr. Hoff, and continuing until he had cum in me. Every afternoon another faculty member would visit our class for me to do the same. Sometimes, we would get two visits in an afternoon, and those days, even though I didn’t have to, I often found myself cumming for a second time while taking my third cock of the day.

Going home to the family for Christmas break was a welcome break, but also a mixed experience. My Season was over. Another girl’s name would be on the bulletin board when I went back to school, but I would also be returning with the news of a missed period, and in a few days, my pregnancy test would join the row of others on the Achievement bulletin board in the classroom.

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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