I had been caught jimmying the tampon dispenser in the girl’s bathroom because I didn’t have any money on me. The principal said I could either have a month detention on the weekends or be a teaching assistant for a couple days. After I chose the second option, and didn’t hear from the principal’s office for two weeks, I thought maybe they’d forgotten about me, but I was wrong. After arriving at school one day, midweek, I was called out of my first period class to report to the Nurse’s office. Once there, where the head school nurse took my temperature, and did some basic checkup stuff. Before sending me off for my class assistant assignment she gave me the year’s flu shot ‘since I was already there’. The year’s vaccination program was going to begin for the school soon anyway.

By the time I made it to Mr. Andow’s classroom, I was feeling kind of floaty, but otherwise fine. I didn’t really notice anything amiss when he introduced me to his class as his assistant for this chapter’s content, and casually lead me to his desk. Without preamble, he gently but firmly bent me over the desk and unfastened and pulled down my pants and panties. He spoke sternly to the class as he did this, saying he hoped everyone had read the chapter on human reproduction. While the back of my mind registered something odd going on, I couldn’t really figure out what it was.

“When a woman is ovulating,” Mr. Andow was saying, “her secretions take on a different character. It is one of the readily identifiable physical signs she is ready to conceive.”

One by one, Mr. Andow called the class up to look. He swiped a finger up my slit, coming away with a long strand of my wetness glistening in the light to show. I gasped at the touch, and then barely held a moan at the finger’s stroke. He pushed my thighs apart so the class could see, and as he did, the wetness in the slow parting of my labia was obvious, like I was on the verge of dripping. I could almost feel them looking at my pussy, their breaths caressing my skin. The bolder ones touched me, sliding a finger as they’d seen their teacher do. I couldn’t keep quiet during those caresses and little tremulous sighs escaped me.

“Some women are easily or naturally more aroused at this time in their cycle. They are more sensitive and receptive to pleasure, instinctively reciprocating and resonating with a partner’s pleasure in the act, helping to ensure pairing at the right time.”

As the last of the students sat back down, boys and girls alike shifted in their seats.

“While intercourse for pleasure or recreation should always be preceded by adequate pre-amble and sometimes assisted by lubrication for mutual comfort, intercourse for reproduction often does not require such. A well aroused, ripe vagina is sufficiently lubricated to accept a fully erect penis, even if of considerable size.”

I watched the class watching me as a fat cockhead pressed into my slit and then began to push into me. My moan drew some of their gazes to my face before they turned back to my steady impalement.

“One may notice the tactile differences within the passage, and the more sensitive may detect elevated body heat. All telltale signs.”

The cock, surely Mr. Andow’s but I couldn’t bring myself to turn my head to look, pushed all the way in, making me gasp as he pressed against the end of my passage, and then started a slow, steady rhythm, fucking me in front of his class.

“Some of you gentlemen may be endowed enough to reach, as I am doing, all the way to the cervix – just as some of you ladies may have smaller vaginal canals than others. Excessive length is far from necessary, of course. An ejaculation is usually either forceful enough or of sufficient quantity, or both, for semen to reach the cervical opening. The cervix is is, at this stage, sometimes slightly dilated, and vaginal mucus is aligned to more easily allow semen’s entry. Not much has to reach it, but to improve conception chances, positioning so as to allow pooling of semen at the entrance would be an additional aid.”

His pace picked up as he talked, strokes becoming thrusts. My moans rose as he moved faster.

“Some women find it difficult to orgasm from penetrative intercourse only. In that case additional stimulation is sometimes required or desired. A woman’s climax is not necessary for conception, but the contractions of the uterus and vaginal passage can increase the chance and quantity of sperm’s entry into the womb.”

He reached a hand around my hip and down my abdomen to find my clit and swipe his finger across it a few times, making me cry out and buck my hips back into his fuck.

“In this case it will not be necessary, most likely. But we will discuss and explore the mysteries and wonders of the clitoris in a later class…”

The teacher trailed off as his hand returned to a firm grip on my hip. He was fucking harder now, panting audibly as he talked.

“Now…the moment of climax is rarely… the moment of conception… indeed, sperm can live for days… to take advantage of the right moment… but getting it in place… to do the job… is…”

He slammed forward, slapping his body against mine and holding there, his cock stretching and stuffing me as it jerked and pulsed. I could not stop my body from reacting. The feeling of the cock filling me, the cum pumping into me, the intent of it, my total receptivity, I cried out in orgasm as well.

“…the function of intercourse.”

By the time both of us came down – my internal muscles had milked every last drop from his spent balls. He pulled out of me, noting the slow dripping of semen from me, and rolling me onto my back on the desk, lifting and bending my legs and directing me to hold onto the backs of my knees, describing to the class how in this position, the ejaculated semen would pool at the cervical opening.

He placed a cushion under my upraised rear, and left me in that position as he finished the class, taking questions, drawing on the board, making homework assignments. 

When class was over, the students, some of them my friends, filed out silently, all of them staring at me displaying my creamed pussy on the teacher’s desk. As Mr. Andow erased the board, he told me I could return to my regular my class schedule, but to report to the nurse tomorrow at lunch time before his afternoon section of this class.

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.

Share your thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.