A Game of Consequences Ch. 04

"Miss - you said it was like one of your fantasies. In what way, Miss?"

She smiled again, and I relaxed a little. She put an arm around my shoulders and kissed me again, pulling me down beside her on the bed, legs entangled, my arm over her.

"Well, Richard, I suppose I can tell you. I mean, it's not like you could use it as a bargaining counter against me, force me to suck your cock rather than have you tell the school about it, is it?" She gave a short laugh. "The worst that could happen is that you could make me - make me do what we've just done!" Her smile was so sexy.

She kissed me again. "Adolescent boys tend to lust over their younger female teachers. It's something they warn you about in college, and they try to get you to prepare strategies and put-downs to avoid embarrassing situations. Adolescent girls are apparently worse, often using their sexuality to catch young male teachers off their guard. Sometimes they mean it, and that's worse. I've seen male colleagues dashing off to the toilets for a wank when some sixth-form girls have been particularly blatant. I remember one young guy desperately asking me for advice when a girl in his science class had taken to sitting on a stool with her legs apart at the end of the lab bench and nonchalantly letting him see that she wasn't wearing panties. She kept doing it, lesson after lesson, and he was at his wits' end. I could tell that he fancied her, but he couldn't say or do anything. If he spoke to her about it, she would just accuse him of being a dirty old man for looking up her skirt. And if, God forbid, he ever tried to do anything with her, he could be in all sorts of trouble." She had quite an earnest expression on her face.

"You see, teachers aren't supposed to have feelings of that kind for their pupils," she continued. "But I know that it happens all the time. God knows we're only human, and sometimes it's more than a normal, hot-blooded man or woman can bear when faced with a load of attractive, hormonal teenagers acting in what can often be a very provocative manner. Even when they're not, it's bad enough. Looking out of the window onto the athletics track on a summer's afternoon and seeing a load of fit, clean-limbed young men in skimpy, tight-fitting sports kit can be quite a distraction, I can tell you. And sometimes in class, it's worse. Your lot were absolute sods for making suggestive remarks and double-entendres, which could be funny or annoying, but sometimes were quite scarily erotic. Roger Evans, in the year above you - he was quite a charmer. I remember having a conversation with him after class at the end of one term about him going back to Wales to stay with his grandparents for a walking holiday. He had a shock of thick, black, curly hair and dark, smouldering eyes that bored into you, and he started describing how he loved his native country. "Yes Miss, I love to explore every inch of her. Her rounded hills, her moist valleys. I like to spend ages there, just burrowing around, trying to find a nice little cleft to nestle in where I can just admire the view." And I remember thinking 'I wouldn't mind you exploring my valley and nestling in my cleft while you admire my hills, you naughty boy!' Which, of course, was the reaction he was after. But of course, I couldn't do anything like that."

She smiled, then kissed me again. "And then there was you. I think that you and I had a connection. I liked you from the moment I met you, and by the time you were in the Sixth Form I have to admit I had a definite soft spot for you - sometimes soft and wet!" Her smile widened into a grin. "But I was a married woman, and I really enjoyed my job, so there was no way I could do anything. I could see from the way that you looked at me - adolescent boys are rubbish at being subtle - that you were attracted to me."

"I wasn't the only one, Miss. Half the class fancied you - that is, all of the boys and probably one or two of the girls!"

She laughed. "OK, so I was aware that you weren't the only one, but you were the prettiest. And despite myself, I did fancy you. Watching you at the swimming galas was exquisite torture, in your tiny trunks and all that lean muscle. Mmmm!" She ran a hand over my chest.

"So what about the fantasies? What did you think of doing with me?"

"No - you first. I want to find out what goes on in the mind of a randy schoolboy."

"Oh, alright. Well, I just imagined that you'd, like, suck my cock, and that I'd fuck you and stuff."

"Not good enough! Give me some context. Where? When? Under what circumstances? It's hardly an erotic fantasy if all you can say is 'Well, I got my cock inside you,' now is it?"

"OK, OK. So I thought that maybe, I'd do something that would get me in detention. Possibly slapping your bum when you were bending over."

"Saucy! I'd put you in detention for that, my boy!"

"Yeah. And I'd have to write lines. And it would be, like, 'I mustn't slap Mrs Dawson's bum'. And then after a bit, I'd change it to 'I must slap Mrs Dawson's bum'. And then you'd notice, and you'd tell me off. And you'd be wearing one of those tops where your nipples poke through, and a tight clingy skirt so I couldn't take my eyes off your arse, and I'd have this throbbing hard-on. So I'd start writing 'I must fuck Mrs Dawson's bum.' And you'd come round and see what I was writing, and instead of going ballistic, you'd be a bit sarcastic, and you'd say something like 'Oh must you, Richard? You know, I don't think you could manage it if you tried.' And then I'd stand up and grab hold of you and kiss you, and at first you'd struggle, and then you'd kiss me back. And I'd unbutton your blouse and suck your gorgeous nipples. And in my fantasy, you'd like that."

"I like that in real life, as I think you've noticed," she smiled back. "So then what happens?"

I could sense she was getting quite aroused by my fantasy. "So then I'd pull your skirt up around your waist and get your panties down. You'd already be wet, and although you'd be protesting a bit I'd turn you round and bend you over the desk, and then I'd undo my flies and slip it into you. And you'd be going 'Oh my God, Richard, that's such a big cock!' and silly shit like that, and after a while, I'd pull it out and start to push it up your bum, and you'd be squealing and saying 'Richard, what do you think you're doing?' and I'd be saying 'I'm trying to fuck your bum, Miss, and I think I can manage it.' And you'd be gasping and begging me to be gentle, and I'd keep doing it and we'd both come with my cock up your arse."

I looked at her face. She seemed at the same time shocked and excited. "I see. So in your fantasy, I get anally raped. That's not exactly nice, is it? And I don't think it could work without lubrication. But interesting, anyway. Why up the arse, I wonder? Isn't my pussy interesting enough? You can tell me, now that you've sampled it."

"Your pussy is gorgeous and very, very hot. But I guess it's just something - outrageous. I mean, I wouldn't dream of that in real life, but in my fantasy, it's so dirty and out of character for both of us that it gets me hard just thinking about it. So what about your fantasy?"

She smiled slyly and started stroking my cock again in an almost casual sort of way. I was almost hard again, just from telling her about my perverted fantasy, and it felt really good.

"Well, actually, it starts similarly. I put you in detention for something like staring at my tits, but you refuse to behave, so I say 'There's only one thing for it. You're behaving like a child so I'm going to have to smack your bottom. Bend over the desk.' And I smack your bum with my hand, and you just snigger, so I say 'Right, if that's your attitude, Richard, I'll have to show you. So I unfasten your trousers and pull them and your pants down to your knees, and I start to smack your bare buttocks quite hard. You do have a delectable tight arse, Richard, and I say that from a position of having done some research on the matter." She smiled saucily. "But anyway, you keep flinching away, so I say 'Stay still!', and I reach underneath you and take hold of your cock. You're already hard and quite big, and soon I'm smacking you with one hand and wanking you with the other. And I notice you're crying and your bum cheeks are red, so I say 'I'm sorry Richard, I didn't mean to hurt you badly. Here, let me kiss it better. And I sort of shimmy under you and start to suck your cock. And you grab hold of my hair and sort of thrust into my mouth, making me gag, so after a few minutes I stop and I say 'That's not nice, Richard. I'm trying to make it better and you're being rough with me. You need to apologise.' So you say 'sorry', and I say 'not good enough, Richard. You think you've won, don't you? Well, you haven't. I know when I'm licked - and it's not yet, but...' And then I pull my skirt up and my panties down, and I say 'You can start here.' So we spend the next hour with you eating my pussy, and I come about six times, and finally I relent and suck you off or I let you fuck me."

"Wow, Jill. It's a shame I was never in detention. It sounds like it could have been fun for us both. Did you ever - I mean - masturbate about it?" I realised this was an embarrassing question, so I added "I did when I thought about you. Loads of times."

She laughed while continuing to stroke my cock. "You know, I did once or twice. And the strange thing is that I thought of you sometimes when my husband and I were having sex. Some nights I just couldn't get into the mood, so I'd close my eyes and think of you, and usually the juices would start to flow. It was the only way I'd ever been unfaithful to the bastard - just inside my head. Now it seems he's been unfaithful to me inside - inside some tart from the office." A look of bitterness crossed her face.

"But Miss - Jill - you can make up for it now, eh? I think we both prefer the real thing to any fantasy. What do you think?"

"I think it's time you fucked me again, Richard. Best if you start with rather a lot of pussy-licking, just to make sure I'm nice and wet. And then you can play games with me again - don't think I didn't notice all the 'Miss' stuff last time. But keep your cock out of my bum - I like fingers but I've never enjoyed anything bigger. You can pretend you're going to do it if you like - that was a thrill last time, you naughty boy" - she gave my cock a squeeze - "but don't try it for real or I really will smack your bottom - or worse."

I guess it was around 3 am when we finally collapsed, exhausted. Like she had asked, I spent a good half-hour eating her pussy until she came. Then we did a little role-play, where she threatened to spank me and instead, I play-wrestled her over my knee and spanked her while 'making' her stroke my cock. Then I bent her over the dressing table, as if it was her desk, and fucked her quite hard from behind, with lots of 'shall I fuck you harder, Miss?' chat that got her excited. I'd come so many times that I found it quite hard to come again, so I kept pounding her for ages, playing with her clit and fingering her bum again until she begged me to stop. Then she pulled the condom off me and gave me a lovely soft blow job until I finally came, without much semen - my balls were almost dry - but what there was going on her face and over her tits.

This time, I stayed the night.