The Rocking Horse

This particular day was an overcast, yet warm Wednesday, sometime in the middle of June. It was then approaching midday, and I was preparing to take perhaps the most easy-going lesson of the day. The morning had been not without its incidents with some of the younger students. Art lessons seemed to incite misbehaviour, and while the number of reprimands dished out today had been relatively less than usual, it was probably too much to ask for children to be totally sensible while handling clay or messing with paint, especially in the highest room of the three story main building. This next lesson I was due to take however was a sixth-form class readying for A-level exams, and totalled approximately thirteen, depending on the occasional truant. As such, it was sure to be free of behavioural problems as the students had chosen the subject because of their interest in it, and over the last ten months they had given me the impression of a rather quiet, grown-up, interesting group of eighteen year-olds. Because of this they were my preferred class to teach by a long way. Their abilities were mixed however, but as you would expect there were a few very talented individuals who were fantastically creative and technically brilliant. Yet of these few young artists, one girl had been a particular pleasure to teach.

Anna was the girl seated farthest from me, meticulously applying intricate, delicate patterns to several pieces of board, for, as she had told me the previous week, the purpose of making stencils. She sat with one leg over the knee of the other, quite at ease but seemingly absorbed in her work. It was perhaps this pose which had drawn me towards her in the very beginning; her black over-the-knee socks highlighted her slender legs in this pose, unique and alluring. The rest of her uniform -- the very short, dark skirt and fitted shirt -- exuded a very kempt appearance, and was matched with the small, shiny, un-scuffed shoes she wore that always looked brand new. The outfit was neatly drawn to the familiar school tie, which hung at a reasonable length, and was showed no signs of fraying, and was without, perhaps unusually for a student, ink stains. This neatness repeated itself in her hair, where her blonde waves exuded care and attention, but nowhere near the blatant over-styling evident in some of her peers. The same was true with her make-up: I always noticed how little she wore. Her striking face came close to looking like that of a model without seeming gaunt, and needed no exaggeration. In comparison to the girls that I often noticed wandering the school clad in a thick shell of foundation she appeared so natural. I imagined perhaps she could have been a woodland nymph, her delicate frame and small height leaving me with the impression that all she lacked were wings of some kind.

Socially, Anna had many friends. Yet she was also strangely solitary. I noticed how her interaction with other students was never restricted by their social groups. She herself seemed to switch factions from the popular girls to the more studious types generally, though she lacked the social ferocity of the first and the reclusive bookishness of the latter. I had no idea to which group her most friends belonged, or where her own loyalties lay. It wasn't something we ever discussed. But I knew she was never alone, never without company, which reassured me greatly. In the art class she worked diligently, without allowing herself to be greatly interrupted by other students. There was only ever one thing that had ever taken her attention away from her artwork. And that was me.

This warm June day was to continue the usual fortnightly arrangement that had been taking place over the last few months, ever since that day last year, at the end of August. It had taken a while to get to this stage but Anna now knew precisely what was required of her. The bell rang for the end of the lesson, and as was now customary she ensured that she was last to pack up, staying behind while everyone else droned hurriedly out for lunch. On a Wednesday, her afternoon lessons were technically to be double P.E. But seeing as though I had a firm acquaintance with her P.E. teacher, and as it was a subject that was geared towards personal benefit as opposed to any qualification or academic gain, I was able to ensure that her absence was all in good cause: helping out in the art rooms, for instance or finishing up coursework. For myself I still had lessons to attend to, following a one hour break. That was of no concern however, as the arrangements planned for Anna didn't call for my interaction until later that evening. But I did like to initiate things early, and let her taste what she knew was coming. I sat at my desk and called out to her, the other students having just left:

"Anna, could you stand up please." She stood slowly, placing her pencil on the table next to her eraser and art tools and scraping the plastic chair against the floor slightly. "Come and stand in front of me, there's a good girl." In a sheepish, vulnerable way Anna shifted herself to about three metres in front of my desk. Her hands were closed and her legs were buckling ever so slightly, a familiar sight. I stood up and approached where she had been sat for the lesson, as I always did. Anna remained facing my desk. I looked closely at the blue plastic chair she had been sat on. I touched it and felt the chairs warmth. There was a slight dampness to it, as usual. I straightened up and sighed, smoothed out my tie and walked back to my desk. I sat down and looked at Anna who had her head bowed in shame, allowing her hair to almost cover her cheeks.

"This really will not do, Anna. You can't ruin school property like that. I mean, just look at how wet your pussy has made the seat." I let it ring in the silence, and she nodded slightly. She knew what was to follow. "Well then. Take off your panties." I said. She reached under her skirt and pulled down her small, white briefs, looped them over her feet. I could see her breathing had increased.

"Put them on my desk, and walk around to me." I said, and moved my chair back slightly so that it was touching the whiteboard. Anna duly placed her white panties, which I could see had gone slightly translucent with wetness on my desk, and walked around to me and stood in between my knees. She faced away from me, and slowly bent over the desk, gripping the furthest edge of it from me with her hands, and turned her head to the side. Her legs were straight and her back arched inwards in anticipation. I watched for a few seconds, before shaking my head, saying:

"You really, really shouldn't get things so messy at school Anna." I lifted her skirt over her back to see her cute butt, soft and smooth and perfectly shaped. I glanced at her smooth, tempting pussy to see it gleaming with juice; over her lips and even as far as her thighs. I had to resist a terrific urge to touch it, taste it. "Your pussy really is very wet this afternoon, isn't it?" I said softly. Anna nodded and closed her eyes; I noticed her slightly biting her lip.

"Yes sir." She breathed. I really was teasing her today.

I brought my hand down sharply on her right buttock and watched her flinch. I ran my hand gently over it, before giving the left side the same treatment. Then I proceeded to strike each side after five second intervals, massaging them in-between, until I could see them gently redden. Once I had finished, I glanced again at her pussy. She was silently pleading for anything to touch it, with more juice flowing from it by the second. It made me wonder if she somehow saved it up just for me. Anna was squirming and gyrating for me to do something about her intense arousal, but she should have known better. This was now over.

"Okay, up you get. Put your panties back on and collect your things." She rose from the desk, leaving a clammy mark of her tummy on the worn wooden surface. "Here's the key. I will see you in a couple of hours." I gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then I removed a single key from the desk drawer and pressed it into her hand, and watched as her pleading eyes looked at me with a familiar mixture of longing and frustration: a yearning to be fucked by her thirty-seven year old art teacher, for her wet pussy to be finally satisfied, and for it to be here and right now, and the painful truth that she would indeed have to wait not just another minute, but another five hours. She made her way to her seat and collected up her belongings. I warned her that I could have confiscated her panties and made her walk back to my house without them, as I had before on occasion. Her blushing face nodded, and she left the room.

The rest of my teaching day would now full of anticipation; an unmatched eagerness to get home driven by the knowledge that Anna waited for me there in exactly the way I taught her. By the time I reached her, she would be close to a passionate frenzy. Through the difficult task of removing this thought from my mind I was usually able to concentrate more fully on teaching in the afternoon, and therefore stop time from dragging so. I would have her for around two hours that evening, with her parents assuming, as I had written to them, Anna was involved in after school art activities. There was a semblance of truth in this, as she was always present at such events. They never took place on a Wednesday however, and her aging, docile, kindly parents whom I had met on more than one occasion at parent's evenings and school art exhibitions would undoubtedly never question the situation. During school holidays I always made sure that I could have her for at least one whole day somehow, which was also easily arranged. Suspicion was absent. The situation was faultless.

That afternoon did indeed pass quickly, as I remained focused on my teaching. As the final bell of the day rang out however, my stomach thumped with the blood of excitement. Once I had cleared away the remaining debris of a year nine attempt at papier-mâché I gathered my briefcase and art materials box, said my goodbyes to various colleagues in the staff room and left for home, and Anna. Living in this house, which I had attempted to redecorate many years ago from its poor state of repair was ideal, merely a ten minute walking distance from the school, and the large, old, detached building sat close to a fairly quiet road. Walking my everyday path was generally peaceful in the afternoons, once the children also heading home had dispersed along the route. Thankfully crossing through any rough-looking estates was unnecessary, and so my direction differed to those we all knew from school that would be looking to cause trouble. In fact I had only one street of true suburbia to pass through; the rest of my journey took me through a few streets of old, diverse houses: the remains of a scattered village.

I arrived at my driveway listening to the sounds that hung in the relative silence. A bird, the effects of a slight breeze, and a passing car. In the early evenings I could often see and hear people walk past from the windows, but just now it was quiet. My own heart became a sound. I could feel it pulsing adrenalin through my body, both from my quickened pace and my intense excitement. I removed my ring of keys and unlocked the front door. Opening it, I was met with my old and empty hallway. Looking through the downstairs rooms, Anna was nowhere to be seen, and nothing had been disturbed. She was so very good at doing exactly what I had taught her, I almost felt a sense of pride. I set my things down in the large living room, and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. I knew she would be able to hear me, knew she would start to get even more wet in anticipation. The water was not cold, but it was fine. I opened the kitchen door into the garage, an old converted shed, and closed it behind me.

I pulled the cord light switch to illuminate the room. Although the room was mostly empty I had made sure it was a decent temperature, despite its concrete floor. It wasn't exactly warm, but you wouldn't feel the cold in there, which I was glad about, for Anna's sake. In the middle of the room, on an old, cushioned rocking horse, Anna was waiting. She was facing away from me, but towards the garage door. Naked, and with her hands secured by ropes around the front of the horse she was still. I moved closer to inspect, one hand in my pocket and one holding the water. Her legs were dangling away from the sides of the wooden toy, as there were no stirrups. The saddle, padded, was the only fabric part of the horse, with the rest being shiny mahogany. I gazed at her pussy, and saw just how wet it really was. It seemed to seep fluid before my very eyes, and I noticed that it had been occasionally dripping onto the wooden end of the horse, down the tail, and onto the floor, forming a large, dark wet spot in the concrete. I walked around to the front of the horse. Anna's hands were firmly tied, as I taught her, around the wooden neck and partly to the front legs. Her reddened cheek was leant against the neck also, her eyes were glazed and her breathing was heavy but suppressed. Her small breasts were discernible each side of the neck, and she used her upper arms to compress them against the wood, perhaps longing for just one touch on the nipples that she couldn't reach herself.

I walked around her slowly, my footsteps sounding loud on the concrete. I was captivated how her slender litheness mimicked the shiny, polished curves of the horse. Their arched backs sat paralleled. Her body was almost as small as the toy itself. I was never sure how long it took her to arrange herself like this, or at what time she decided to prepare herself for me, but the wetness of the floor always indicated a good while. My cock had grown incredibly hard as I studied her. Walking back around to the front, I set down the glass of water, unzipped and pulled it out.

"Does my Anna want to taste this, and get it all wet for me?" I said, looking down at her. She nodded longingly, and I brought myself close to her lips. My cock leaked juice from my arousal, and she eagerly lapped it up. Then, almost uncontrollably she took as much of me as she could in one go, allowing saliva to thickly coat my impatient cock. It drooled down to my balls as she sucked me perfectly. The horse started to rock underneath her. I put my hand in her hair and held her head, gradually slowing her rocking down before retreating myself from her mouth.

"Well done sweetie. I think I am ready to fuck you now. You would like to be fucked right now, wouldn't you?" I said to her in a kindly voice, stroking the side of her face gently. She responded well.

"Yes, please sir, please fuck me. Please fuck me sir." She pleaded. I kissed her forehead and walked to the back of the rocking horse. Anna was at the perfect height for me in this way. I grabbed hold of her upper thigh with one hand, and started sliding my cock up and down and around her pussy, around her clit and lips, mixing the saliva on my cock with her wetness. Her breathing increased yet again, and she came close to letting out a pleading whimper. I held myself at the entrance to her pussy and watched as she attempted to rock back and forwards onto it. Slowly, she managed to ease her tight self onto my cock, albeit just the very end of me. I held her still. I waited, teasing her. She started to try and rock again but I made sure that she didn't get anywhere. Then, grasping her hips I pushed myself slowly into her, until I couldn't go any further. Anna lifted her head, gasping, and quietly groaned as I fucked her in measured drives. My hands moved to her bum, and I rocked her back and forth on my cock, watching as it glistened from her soaked pussy. I tip-toed occasionally, pushing myself down against her most sensitive part. Her tightness betrayed just how big I must have seemed inside her. With each movement she tried to get me further and further into her, but to no avail. Her breathing intensified again, her body writhed, appearing unsure of what to do and where to go as she approached an orgasm. Suddenly her entire body seemed to spasm, her legs thrashed, her back arched even further and she shuddered as her pussy became incredibly tight around my cock. She twitched and lurched, causing the horse to rock violently. I managed to stay inside her throughout. On some occasions it had been difficult.

Once she had finished gasping I pulled out, though I knew she was aching for more. The rocking horse slowed, and I walked around the front again, trailing my hand over her skin, sparkling from sweat. I told her to clean me up, and she began to trail her tongue along my dick, scooping up as much wetness as possible into her mouth.

"That's good, that's a good girl. You like the taste of your own pussy don't you?" She nodded, my cock filling her mouth. "I want you to swallow it all up today, Anna." I stood there and loosened my tie as her soft sweet lips trailed up and down me, her tongue massaging me. She knew I liked her to crave my cum: to want to drink and swallow every last bit. If she did that, she knew she could be in for a treat. As she sucked, voices could be heard outside. A large group of people, some of them children, were walking along the street, close to the house. I enjoyed it when that happened. That they were so close, that she must be quiet to avoid discovery made Anna redden once more, and I knew it was sure to make her wet all over again. I had played with the idea of one day not entering through the kitchen, but maybe the garage door itself, leaving it open so as to risk being seen by anyone who happened to walk past. I leant on the horse's head with one hand and stroked Anna's face with the other. Her hair had become tousled and darker slightly. She looked up at me with her wanting eyes. And then I came. I filled her mouth with several large measures of my cum, and I watched her neck as she swallowed several times. I soon pulled out. She had done a very good job of cleaning me up.

"Well done sweetie. There you are. All full now? Did that taste nice?" I looked down at her as she licked her lips and nodded again. I smiled, and bent down until I was level with her breasts. She moved her arms as best she could to make way for me to put my mouth over each of them, wetting them, furiously playing at her sensitive little nipples with my tongue. Then I stood up, zipped up, and tucked my shirt back in and re-straightened my tie. I carefully untied Anna's arms, threw the rope on the floor and hoisted her off of the rocking horse. She was so light, drooping from my arms like a ragdoll. I carried her back through the kitchen and into the large, open living area. I set her down in the middle of the room, on a rug in front of the vast, empty fireplace. She positioned herself on all fours, as she knew she must, awaiting my instruction. The room, like much of the house was in a process of refurbishment. Two large red antique leather sofas mingled with step ladders, paint, archaic bureaus and other antiquated furniture items. I sat down on the edge of one of the old desks. Next to me was a Polaroid camera. I picked it up and checked it for film, of which there was plenty. I walked over to my little girl, knelt at her side and took a photo of her on all fours. It was an act that had become something of a ritual. I took the photo and shook it rapidly.

"Here you go, don't drop it now." I said, as Anna took the photo in her mouth. She knew that if she dropped it, then I would get to keep it. If she didn't, she was free to hold on to the photo herself. I had joked when I first started that the more of them I got to keep, the more of her was mine. She hadn't dropped one yet.

I stood up behind her, admiring her truly nimble frame. Her arched back allowed her ribs and spine to just become noticeable. I ran the tip of my pointed, shiny black shoes along the inside of her leg, up her thigh and pushed it up against her pussy, giving her clit a gentle massage. Withdrawing my shoe I noticed she had made it wet and slick.