She Gets What She Wants

The bell rang, and Rodney Gellar watched as his students filtered from his classroom, most on cell phones, all of them placing their personal essays on his desk as they walked by.

"Mr. Gellar?" a soft voice asked and Rod, as he was known to his fiancé and friends, and he looked up into Elizabeth Blaylock's baby blues.

"Yes, Bitsy?" Rod responded, hoping to keep this conversation to a minimum. As a 27 year old teacher, with a full head of dark brown hair, green eyes, and a body he worked hard for, who had been teaching for 3 years, Rod knew that he was kind of considered a hot teacher. He'd been dealing with school girl crushes for years now, but...

With Bitsy, it was different. It wasn't the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous, which she was; with long, wavy red hair and blue eyes, she looked like a life-sized cupie doll, but with huge breasts. They were Ds, at the very least. And it wasn't the fact that every time she looked at him, you could tell she was thinking about bending backwards for some extra credit - literally.

It was more the fact that when she breathed fire at him, and he saw the images that he knew she was thinking, he... well, he wanted to breath fire right back.

One time, during one of his lectures, he'll glance at her in the second row, and she'll just be staring at him, with her eyes glazed over, biting her lower lip, nipples poking through her shirt... and he knew she was mentally licking him like a lollipop.

He had to clear his throat twice, and step behind his podium to cover up a problem he hadn't had in a while, that being a spontaneous erection, and he couldn't look at her for the rest of the class period.

And with his fiancé out of town on a writing job for a whole month, he had been without sex for a good week and a half. And he was not used to going without sex.

"Mr. Geller, if it's not too much trouble, I wanted to ask you to read my paper first..." Bitsy looked at him from beneath her lashes. "I'm not sure it's at all what you're asking for, and I want to have time to revise it before the final draft is due."

Rod nodded his head, without making any more eye contact than necessary. "Sure, Bitsy. I'll read it tonight and give you any notes I might have tomorrow."

Despite his best intentions, he saw the smile on Bitsy's face as she said thank you and his groin tightened a little. "Have a good night, Mr. Gellar," her final words were as she walked backwards out of his classroom before twirling around.

Later on that evening, after a glass of wine and a phone call to his fiancé that did not end in phone sex as he was hoping it might, Rod grabbed his brief case and sat down on his couch, leaning back and crossing his leg over. He pulled out all the papers, leafed through until he found Bitsy's paper, and put the rest back in his brief case. He grabbed a pen, pulled his coffee table closer, and settled into a long read.

However, by the time he was done reading the first paragraph, he was not proud, but his hand was wrapped around his 7 inch cock, pumping slowly up and down.

Her thesis was "Every night, I go to sleep dreaming of sucking your cock, Mr. Gellar, and every morning, I wake up with my fingers in my pussy, wishing it was your cock."

Suffice to say, the rest of the paper was horribly inappropriate, and if anyone caught him with it, he'd be fired on the spot. It was a list of fantasies, ranging from being thrown and ravished on his desk, to her sucking his cock beneath his desk while he taught class, to serving detention on her knees, to being spanked for cheating on a test... She even had a fantasy about him taking her tight ass.

At the end of the "essay," if you could even call it that, she included her phone number, in case he had any questions or wanted to send her any dirty pictures. Legitimately, that's what she suggested.

And fuck, it was tempting. And just as he was about to dial the number, it hit him; she was a student of his. Sure, she was 18 already, and she wouldn't be his student for very much longer, but still. He could lose his job. No, strike that, he WOULD lose his job.

So he took a permanent marker, colored over the number, took a cold shower, and resolved to talk to Bitsy about what their relationship was NOT going to include - which was mainly unbridled, passionate fucking.

The next day, it took forever to get to his last class - Bitsy's class.

The minute she stepped through the door, Rod knew he was in trouble.

She had on dark skinny jeans that he could see practically molded to her ass as she walked past his desk, hooker red high heels, and a top that did wonderful things for Bitsy's cleavage.

It really wasn't anything different than what she normally wore, because she liked to dress to show off, but her words were visually imprinted in his brain, and if he wasn't mistaken, those high heels had played a very big role in a fantasy about her walking on top of his desk - in just the heels.

Thank God there was a test in class today, he thought to himself. There was no way he could actually give a lecture in the mental state he was in.

Before he knew it, the bell rang and students were bringing their tests to him.

"Bitsy," he called out to her as she was gathering up her stuff, "may I have a word?"

She walks up to his desk quickly, "Sure, Mr. Gellar, but I really have to go to the bathroom. Can I come back in a second?"

After he nodded his consent, she rushed out of the classroom.

Rod was thankful for the reprieve, because he still had no idea what he was going to say. How to break it to a hot, young, sexy woman that you couldn't sleep with her? Even though you really, REALLY wanted to?

His door opened as he was mulling over his options, and he looked up and stilled. She was no longer wearing the jeans, nor the top she had been wearing, but she still had the shoes. It was coupled this time, though, with a short, plaid skirt, a white button up shirt that wasn't actually buttoned, just tied in a knot between her breasts, and her hair was in pigtails.

She closed the door behind him, turned the lock, and started walking towards him, with something dangling between her fingers.

"I didn't get a call from you last night," she said, pouting a little. He finally noticed what was dangling between her fingers; it was what appeared to be a red, lacy thong.

That gave him the impetus to say something as he tried to get up out of his seat. "Bitsy, this is completely inappropriate-"

He was cut off as she was suddenly straddling him and waving her lingerie under her nose. He couldn't help it, but he took a big sniff, and nearly groaned aloud at the delicious smell of her pussy.

"I was all alone in my bed," she whispered in his ear, "playing with my wet cunt, pinching my nipples, wishing I had something in my mouth to suck on like your yummy, yummy cock." On the words "yummy," she bounced up and down on his cock, which was of course rock hard in his pants. She bit his earlobe, which sent another lightning bolt down to his crotch.

She started rubbing herself against him, and through his pants, he could feel how wet and juicy she was.

Dear God, he was just a man.

She was unbuttoning his shirt while licking at his neck, and he was impressed with her coordination and ability to multi-task, and was about to tell her so when she suddenly surprised him by ripping the rest of his short open, sending buttons flying everywhere.

And then suddenly, her mouth was running over his chest, his hands were in her hair, and he couldn't remember his name, let alone his profession or the reasons why he shouldn't be letting her do this.

"Mr. Gellar," she moaned against his chest, "please fuck me."

And suddenly, Rod was no longer a passive participant. He gripped her waist, hoisted her up onto his desk in front of him, and untied her shirt.

Of course, Bitsy wasn't wearing a bra any more, which Rod couldn't be happier about, as it gave him instant access. He immediately covered one of her nipples with his mouth; he gently nipped at the tip and Bitsy hissed. She knotted her fingers in his hair, dragged his head back, and slanted her mouth over his, sucking his tongue into her mouth.

Rod's hands went to her skirt and flipped it up over her thighs, thankful she had already taken off any barriers to him. He unbuckled his pants and dragged them, along with his boxers down to free his hard dick.

She felt it bounce against her thigh and tore her mouth free. "Wait," she breathed. "I want to suck your cock first."

"Later," he ground out. "I fucking need your cunt now." He didn't wait for any comments or protests, he grabbed his cock, and slid it into her sweet, sweet honey pot.

"Oh, fuck," Bitsy yelled, throwing her head back as Rod slid all the way home. She whimpered as Rod just stood there, soaking up the feeling of being in such a tight, teenaged pussy. "Mr. Gellar," she whined, shifting her hips in desperate need of stimulation. "Mr. Gellar, please... pound my pussy."

And those were the words that broke him. He slowly slid backwards until the tip of his cock was in her, and then slammed back in, grunting as the pleasure took him again. She gripped his ass as he shifted back and did it again and was moaning loudly he was almost worried about getting caught, so to shut her up, he stuck his fingers in her mouth.

She immediately started sucking on them as he rocked harder and harder into her cunt.

She took his hand out of her mouth as she noticed he was getting closer and closer to cumming. "Fuck my dirty little pussy, Mr. Gellar. Make me your slut. I want your cum in my pussy."

"You're such a little whore," Rod groaned. His thrusts were getting faster and heavier, and he moved his hand down to rub her little clit, because God, he wanted to feel that sweet little twat tighten on his cock and milk it.

She started moaning loudly again, but there was nothing he could to do stop it, this time, because he was grunting and groaning just as loudly. Flesh slapped against flesh as his thrusts got more sporadic.

"Oh, fuccccccck," Bitsy wailed as her tight hole started spasming around Rod's rod. And that started Rod's orgasmic bliss as his cum spurted into Bitsy.

Rod's first thought, coming back to reality: What the fuck did I just do?