Watching her dainty fingers pull some of the cheese from the garlic baguette was enough to captivate me in this one.
“So,” she pushed. “Was she your girlfriend? This lovely Catherine?”
I took a sip of wine, then tore a strip of bread of my own. “I certainly wanted her to be. She was the pinup of the whole school. She was the captain of the netball team, and the head questioner on the debating group, and she always represented the school on open days and town events.”
“Quite a good girl, then.”
“Indeed, she was a good girl.” I smirked. “Or so I thought.”
She raised her eyebrows before forking up some pasta. “She was a bad girl?”
“Yes,” I said. “She was a very, very bad girl.”
And then I told her the story.
I told her how Catherine Whitehurst had been the girl of my dreams through the years of high school right through until we were leaving. I told her how I was obsessed with her brilliance. Her perfect laugh, and her great manners, and how incredible she was at every good little task she was given.
Faith listened so intently that she barely ate any pasta, the fork pausing midway to her mouth as the story took a very sharp turn for the bad.
It felt strange to voice the tale aloud, having never done so. But I did.
“It was a Thursday,” I told her. “I’d finished up my game with the after school football team and needed to drop my Physics assignment back into Mr Harrington’s class before I left for the day. It was just a stupid oversight on my part, I should have dropped it on his desk before lunch was done, but I’d got distracted by the sports field.” I took a breath and another sip of wine. “Anyway, school was clear and I made my way to the science block, not thinking anything of it in the slightest. I walked right on in without knocking, convinced it would just be a quick case of drop the assignment and go, but when I stepped on inside I was faced with an entirely different scenario.”
“Go on,” she said, and that fork was still hovering.
“He was in there with her,” I said. “Mr Harrington with Catherine. She was still in her uniform and was bent forward over his desk with her sweet little tits hanging from her bra and her blouse opened wide. Her tie was still around her neck and so was his hand, holding her real fucking tight.”
I loved how wide her eyes were as she listened.
“He was fucking her hard. Real fucking hard. She was crying out and bashing into the desk, and I’ll remember those whimpers as long as I live. I’ll remember her expression as long as I live too. She was loving it, of that there was no doubt. She was crying out for more and she wanted it. But it was hurting. There was no doubt from the way she was crying out that it was hurting.”
“Wow,” she said, and finally took the pasta from the fork.
“I didn’t know how to react. I had my assignment in my hand and must have been staring like an idiot, but my dick was absolutely pulsing in my pants, and I couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t stop wanting more.”
“What did they do?” she asked. “What did the teacher do? I mean surely he freaked out and bailed out of there, right?”
I took a sigh before carrying on, “Not exactly,” I said. “He stared right back at me and kept on fucking her, and there was this smirk on his face. So filthy and so proud.”
“Like you,” she giggled, and I laughed along with her.
“Quite.”
“I like you like that.”
“I’m glad,” I said. “Anyway, he kept on fucking her, real fucking hard, and she was taking it, still whimpering for more, and I wanted so fucking much to put my hand down my pants and milk one off to her, but I couldn’t. I was stood like a statue, mouth open wide, just aching to touch that girl for myself. It physically fucking ached too. I’d been jerking off to that girl for years, and there she was right in front of me with her tits out being pounded by our Physics teacher.”
“That must have been crazy.”
I nodded. “Crazy and quite an experience. If that wasn’t intense enough, Mr Harrington called right on over to me. He told me I was a sick fuck with a hard on in his pants, and if I had any sense I’d keep my mouth shut about that bullshit.”
“What did you say?”
“I said nothing, just stared.”
“And he kept on fucking her?”
I smirked again. “He kept on fucking her and I kept on watching, and it was such a contrast, the innocence of that girl I’d dreamed of for so long mixed up so hard with the dirty little slut bent over that desk that day.”