My teacher fu'ck me in classroom

 

I still get wet just thinking about it, Sir.

It was after hours in your office last semester. I came in begging for an extension on that paper—like the desperate little slut I am. You locked the door, sat back in your chair, and just stared at me with that cold look that makes my knees shake.

“You want a better grade, Emily? Then get on your fucking knees and show me what a good girl you can be.”

I dropped so fast my skirt rode up. You made me crawl across the carpet to you, tits bouncing under my thin blouse. No bra that day— you noticed right away.

“Look at these pathetic tits,” you said, grabbing one hard through the fabric. “Begging to be used. Say it.”

“Please, Professor… use my tits. They’re yours. I’m your dirty little whore.”

You ripped my blouse open, buttons popping. Slapped my face lightly—just enough sting to make me whimper—then pinched my nipples until I cried out. “Louder, slut. Tell me how bad you need this cock.”

“I need it so bad, Sir. Please fuck my mouth. Choke me with it. I’m nothing but your cum-dump student.”

You unzipped, pulled out that thick professor dick, already leaking. Grabbed my hair like a leash and forced my head down. No warm-up. You rammed straight to the back of my throat. I gagged, tears streaming, but you held me there. “That’s it. Take every inch like the cock-sleeve you are. This is what happens to failing sluts who beg for favors.”

You face-fucked me until my mascara ran black. Spit dripping down my chin. Then you yanked me up by the hair, bent me over your desk, skirt flipped up, panties yanked to the side.

“Spread those legs wider, bitch. Show me that soaked cunt.”

I did. Ass up, face down on your papers. You slapped my ass hard—left red handprints. “Count them.”

“One… thank you, Sir… two… thank you…”

After ten, my ass was burning, but my pussy was dripping onto the floor. You rubbed the head of your cock against my slit, teasing.

“Beg for it properly.”

“Please, Professor… please rape my tight little cunt. Stretch me. Own me. I’m your filthy student whore. Fuck me like I deserve.”

You slammed in—one brutal thrust. No mercy. I screamed into my arm. You pounded me like you hated me, like you owned me. Hand around my throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make stars burst behind my eyes.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, Sir! Only yours! Fuck your property!”

You pulled my hair back, made me arch. Reached around and rubbed my clit rough—too rough—but I came anyway, shaking, squirting a little on your desk like a shameless slut.

You didn’t stop. Flipped me onto my back, legs over your shoulders. Pinned my wrists above my head with one hand.

“Look at me while I fill you, you worthless cum-rag.”

I stared into your eyes as you hammered deeper. “Gonna breed this cunt. Mark you inside. Every time you sit in my class from now on, you’ll feel my cum leaking out.”

“Yes, Sir… breed me… please…”

You groaned, buried to the hilt, and pumped rope after rope deep inside. Hot, thick, claiming. When you pulled out, it dripped down my thighs. You scooped some up with your fingers, shoved them in my mouth.

“Clean it, slut. Taste what a good girl gets for submitting.”

I sucked eagerly, moaning around your fingers.

Then you sat back, zipped up, and said calmly, “Paper’s due tomorrow. A+ if you show up to class tomorrow with no panties and my cum still inside you.”

I left your office walking funny, thighs sticky, heart racing. And yes, Sir… I did exactly that the next day.

Because I’m your obedient little fucktoy now. Always will be.