“What's it look like?” she purrs, fondling my balls and stroking my wet shaft. “Come on, Mr. Reed. You’re a clever guy. Surely, you recognize sucking cock when you see it?”
Saliva drips from her lips, down onto my cock, which she uses to stroke more, tight and slow. Fuck, it feels good. It's so wrong and I know I should hate it, but it feels so fuckinggood.
“Stop,” I demand, more panicked now. “Stop, Chloe, I don't want this.” Her grin widens, turning into a smirk as she runs her fingers along my shaft. I groan, my eyes nearly rolling into the back of my head.
“I went through your phone,” she says, never once slowing her hand. “I saw the photo you took of me when I was half naked and asleep. I've seen your internet history and the videos you have saved of all those schoolgirls who look just like me. You expect me to believe you don't want to slide your cockdeepinto my tight little pussy?”
The words make my stomach clench, with not nearly as much horror as I would have liked it to, because fuck I want that more than anything right now. My cock twitches in her grasp, betraying my mind further. Hell, even my mind doesn’t really want her to stop, no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise.
“It'll feelsogood,” she continues.
She lets me go, sliding her hands up my chest as she gets into position above me, her pussy bare and thighs shining with her wetness. When she mounts me, fucking Christ, she's tight and soaking wet. The sound is obscene as she lowers herself down onto me, tossing her head back and moaning loudly, immediately rocking her hips. Her pussy feels like it's sucking me deeper, as far as I can go. I can only stare, my tongue caught in the back of my throat, at this gorgeous, fucking insane girl as she rides my cock like it's the best thing she's ever had.
“Oh,fuck, Mr. Reed,” she gasps, pushing her breasts out, teasing her nipples with one hand, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she stares down at me. She's so fucking gorgeous, and it feels so good that I give up trying to fight her. “Fuck,yes, I love feeling you inside me. I love being your little schoolgirl slut.”
Jesus.Fuck.
I clench my jaw, unable to look away as I feel myself getting close. My stomach tenses, and my arms and knees are locked tight, unwilling to move or interrupt her rhythm. When I'm about to come, overwhelmed with need, I manage to fight one hand free, which frees the other, and grab her perfect ass, shoving her down tighter onto my hips so that when I finish, it's as deep inside her as I can possibly get.
Chloe laughs shakily, eyes huge and dark, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving with pleasure. It feels like my orgasm lasts for hours, as she settles on top of me and grinds it out, milking every last drop from me.
As soon as I'm finished, she giggles as she unties me, high-pitched and childish, which just brings the revulsion back. She’s just a fucking kid. Disgust, at myself and her, rises inside me. I push her off and fumble with my clothes, dressing as quickly as I can.
I bolt for the door without so much as a 'Goodbye,' and leave the hotel, ashamed and flustered and with my knees still shaking from the fuckingamazingrelease.
* * *
In the safetyof my car, I grip the wheel so tightly the leather cover’s threads squeak in protest. I struggle to slow my pounding heart while I try to process what the hell just happened. The trip home is a blur as I stay locked inside my mind, thoughts of Chloe lingering and self-loathing and -hatred filling every facet of my being.
Somehow, I make it home in one piece. I park out the front of my place and practically catapult out of the car, launching myself toward the front door. The house is still dark, but that feels like a godsend this time. With shaking hands, I grab a bottle of liquor and forget the glass. Opening the top, I gulp back mouthfuls of fiery liquid as the sting burns my eyes, nose, throat, and chest.
As the booze hits me and exhaustion sets in, I wonder if it’s enough to help me sleep. Making my way to bed on unsteady feet—bottle clutched to my chest—I climb under the covers. Closing my eyes, I see her face and my lids fly open.
I don’t want to think about her. Or what just happened. Or any of it. I just want to sleep.
But as I roll over, trying to find a comfortable position, my mind won’t stop racing. I can smell her on my clothes. Taste her on my lips. And as I try to drift off to sleep, I feel heronme. Riding me. Sucking me dry. Giving me the best damn orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.
Fucking fuck.
Closing my eyes again, I force her from my thoughts. I need to clear my head. Turning over, I readjust my pillow. I try to sleep, but all I can think about is Chloe, on top of me, how hot and wet she was on the inside, how I loved every depraved second of fucking her.
But I'm her teacher. I'm her goddamnedteacher.
What thefuckjust happened?
She obviously has some serious mental health issues, and taking this any further would be wrong on so many levels. I should… I should call the police.
And say what?
What would I say?
Some tiny, barely legal girl, half my weight, drugged andrapedme?
Even I have trouble believing that to be true.
No. I can't make this public, I can't risk it getting out. I'll… I'll talk to her—tomorrow. I'll make sure she understands that this was just a onetime thing.
It will never happen again.