«J-Jace, I... I’m your teacher and you’re my student... all of this is... is wrong. W-We can’t... we can’t...» Ms. Alia Archer pants, biting her lip.
Words that co out of her mouth more from a sense of duty, I imagine, considering that not even she really believes the bullshit she’s saying.
That sentence is probably nothing more than a conditioned reflex — a script she’s forced to recite because of her role as a teacher, while her body clearly says the opposite.
I an, Professor Alia Archer is a beautiful woman still in the pri of her maturity — she isn’t even forty — so it’s hard to believe I’m the first student she’s ever done this kind of thing with... who knows how many other n she’s slept with before — or maybe is still sleeping with right now.
I admit I’m really curious to find out, but to extort such delicate information from her, I first have to put her — how should I say... — in the right mood to talk.
I grip her bun and push her head down between my legs; in an instant she’s bent forward, her lips wrapped around my cock and her nails digging into my skin.
I brush a lock of blond hair away from her face, then rest my hand on the back of her neck and drive her down again, hard enough that a muffled cough slips out as my cock reaches the back of her throat. Still, not the slightest complaint — not even a flinch or a hint of displeasure.
Ms. Archer is famous for being the most uncompromising and strict teacher at Ordrienne High — I’ve heard plenty of classmates complain about how harsh and demanding she is... but with she’s the exact opposite.
Maybe, after a lifeti of always having to appear rigid and authoritative, she developed an overwhelming need to be dominated, to have soone say and do what no one at school would ever dare. And I’m exactly that person.
I always go brutally hard on her when we fuck — I’m not exaggerating when I say I treat her worse than a slave, worse than an animal, and I’m certain that’s why she keeps coming back to whenever the stress starts to weigh on her.
I surge to my feet — my cock jutting out in front of Alia’s hungry gaze. She rises too, but I shove her back down into the chair.
«I didn’t give you permission to stand up, bitch,» I scold, my voice cold.
Yeah. That’s exactly what she wants.
I make a small gesture with my hand, as if she were trained, and she imdiately drops to her knees in front of , tongue already out, like a dog waiting for its owner to feed it.
I take a step toward her, my cock just a few centiters from her mouth, and she stays perfectly still, eyes wide, fixed on it.
And even though she’s aching to take my cock, the best part is that she won’t move a single muscle until I give her permission.
I take another step forward and push it into her mouth — only then does she start licking with desperate hunger, like it’s the first cock she’s ever tasted.
«I... I’m your whore, right, Jace?» she pants, her words muffled by my cock.
The question cos at the perfect mont — now I finally have the chance to get rid of that nagging doubt.
«Yes, Alia. You’re my whore. But... are you only mine... or are you soone else’s too?» I reply, my tone sharp and accusatory.
«I-I’m only yours, I swear... no one else has touched since you started doing this. I don’t even let that cuckold husband of mine lay a finger on anymore...» she moans, her voice dull and broken.
«I don’t believe you.»
I lift her by the hair and bend her forcefully over the desk, her ass facing . I grip her hips so hard my nails tear into her skin, while my erection impatiently slides all the way into her pussy, surprisingly tight for her age and experience.
«You say you’re only mine, but I know you’ve been with other n — plenty of other n. You do it because you’re just a filthy slut, insatiable for cocks, right? I know you betrayed , and I can’t let you get away with it!» I growl, slamming my cock into her.
Honestly, I don’t give a fuck who this woman sleeps with. She could’ve fucked half of New York, for all I care — Ms. Archer is probably the woman I feel the least jealousy toward in the world. But I know how much she enjoys being told these things, and indulging her fetishes costs nothing.
And to think that for saying things far less serious to Naomi, she completely erased from her life. Ah... won really are a mystery.
«N-No, believe ... I... I only crave your cock, I swear... aaaah... only yours can make feel like the slut I am... I would never lie to you, master...»
SLAP!
A loud smack of my open hand lands on her ass, my mark blooming red across her skin as her scream mixes pain and pleasure — eyes glossy, almost tearing up, teeth clenched tight.
«Lying slut. You’re just a whore who gets off on being fucked by her students. Admit it!» I insist, yanking her by the hair.
«N-No one, master... only you managed to bring out this side of ... aaaah... I’ve had only you on my mind for three years, and no man could ever replace you... aaaah...»
I won’t deny it’s exciting to hear her talk like this, but now the ti has finally co for the real reason I never turn down a tutoring session with Ms. Archer.
I pull a razor blade from my pocket and bring it close to her ass.
«A-Aaaaaa...»
Another moan of pain escapes her as I carve the letter J — the initial of my na — into her right buttock.
For a woman like her, who takes pleasure in being completely under my control, carrying my initial on her body is the ultimate mark of submission — proof that she belongs only to . And when, a year ago, I suggested it to her — carefully keeping my role as the dominant intact — she felt more than honored to be branded by .
Fresh blood trickles from her skin, and my tongue greedily cleans up every single drop. An ingenious way to combine business with pleasure.
Yeah, Alia Archer is definitely the best math teacher in the world.
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