I knew all the girls in my class wanted to fuck Mr. York. My…

I knew all the girls in my class wanted to fuck Mr. York. My friends and I talked about it all the time, marveling at how he rebuffed every single girl’s advances. Word on the street was that Mr. York was as straight-laced as they come. He shut all the flirting down immediately and demanded respect. It only made them want him more, but they couldn’t have him. 

I guess that’s why I felt so special. I knew that Mr. York was hardly straight-laced. Sometimes at lunch and sometimes after school, Mr. York would ask me to come help him with a special project. He told me that I was the smartest girl in the class and that made him think I was worthy of pouring some extra attention into. As far as I was concerned, he could pour anything he wanted into any part of me that he wanted. 

We didn’t fuck at the first meeting, or even the second. But by the third meeting he couldn’t keep his hands off of me. I let him strip me naked except for my shoes and socks and slam his cock into my young pussy. I know it’s sexual abuse or whatever, because he’s my teacher but I don’t feel abused. I feel like the luckiest little slut in the whole fucking world. I wish I could tell all of my friends how good Mr. York fucks, but I can’t tell anyone. He’s sworn me to silence. He says he’ll keep fucking me as much as I want, as long as I don’t say anything to anyone. 

He knows I won’t tell. I love fucking him too much. I know he loves fucking me too. I can see it in his eyes as the other girls flirt with him. He can’t wait to get rid of them so he can get into my pussy again. 

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