Yes, I wanted a man.
I didn’t want to be fucked by a boy who had no clue what he was doing. I wanted Mr. Parker.
Oh yes. I shifted in my chair, trying to ease the ache in my pussy at the thought of him filling me up. I wanted him to take my cherry, to split me wide open—his cock would be big—and he’d do it right.
While he continued to talk about the three branches of government, his smooth velvety voice only made dark carnal thoughts, wild fantasies, fill my mind.
“Fuck me,” I’d tell him, glancing at the desk just behind him.
Yes, the desk. I fantasized about that desk almost as much as I did Mr. Parker. I was no longer the good student, but one who’d been bad. Very bad.
I’d be bent over his hard desk with my plaid uniform skirt barely hiding my ass. I’d have had to undo the top few buttons of my prim white shirt so he could see that I wasn’t wearing a bra, my nipples tightening as they touched the cold wood.
A shiver would run down my spine when his finger grazed my lace panties. I would feel the heat pool there, making the damp fabric cling to my folds.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” the familiar velvety voice would say. His breath would warm my neck as he leaned over me, dominating me. I’d squeeze my legs together to try and ease the growing ache, but it wouldn’t work. The press of his hand against the lips of my pussy would have me crying out.
“You’re just wearing a thong in my class and no bra.” His voice would be a mix of shock and mischief, and I would no doubt blush as he reached around and cupped an exposed breast.
Teachers weren’t supposed to behave this way, I’d think, even as his other hand would come down on my ass in a harsh swat. They weren’t supposed to reprimand naughty schoolgirls over their desks, but I would wiggle my hips because I’d want the spanking he’d give. I’d push my pert bottom out for more, for anything he’d give me.
“Do you know what happens to girls when they’re naughty?” he’d ask.
“They get punished.”
“That’s right,” he breathed against my neck. “But you’re extra naughty, so you’ll get my hand instead of the ruler. I want to make sure I can feel every single count.”
Nothing about the way Mr. Parker would look at me would be soft. He would be like a beast with its prey. His look would be hungry, with me the answer to quenching his thirst. I would shiver again when his finger started to rub painfully, slowly against the gusset of my thong. His other hand would start to move against my ass cheeks, my bare flesh available for him.
“After your ass is nice and red, then you’ll show me that you’re a good girl again and suck my cock. Nice and deep.” He would rub a finger over me, slip the tip just inside my virgin heat as he held me in place over his desk. “And then I’m going to taste your naughty pussy and make you come.”
I moaned at the thought of him teaching me exactly how he liked it, of him dominating me, making me his. The mangled sound stirred me from my fantasy. I shifted in my seat again, trying to rub my thighs against my swollen clit.
All around me were my classmates, but they seemed not to notice the sound I’d made just thinking about Mr. Parker.
While he was the Civics and Government teacher in this small, private school, he’d finished law school last year and was studying for the bar exam. Being a teacher wasn’t his career, like the other teachers who’d been at the school for decades. He was on the fast track to becoming a lawyer. He should have been stiff and stodgy; all the teachers were. Safe even, but nothing about the way he stared at me spelled “safe.”
Sometimes, I imagined that he stared, that his gaze traced the curve of my leg or lingered on my lips. I dreamed that he wanted me, masturbated in his shower thinking about taking me over his desk. I dreamed that he couldn’t control himself when it came to me, that I was so beautiful, so perfect that he couldn’t say no.
No imagination needed on my end. I definitely wouldn’t say no.
Mr. Parker was nine years older than I was – yes, I stalked him – and a man of that age had years of experience I could only dream about. That easily spelled trouble for me, but I wasn’t running away from it. I wanted him and if I had to be punished because of it, I was fine with that, as long as Mr. Parker was doing the punishing.
Anne was writing something down on a piece of paper while the others worked on a practice test and whispered about what they were doing over the summer. I couldn’t care less.
Why would I, when the only thing I wanted was standing right in front of me?
I spun around when another piece of paper hit my head. Anne raised and lowered her eyebrows at me. I realized my imagination had run wild again. I should’ve known better. Having almost-sex with Mr. Parker would never happen in real life. I saw him every day in class, and he’d never want anything to do with me. I was his student and too young. Yes, I was eighteen, but still...