A Good Student Ch. 02

I reached down and grabbed the hem of her skirt and started working it over her hips but it was snug and she had to help me, moving her thighs together and rolling her hips. Soon enough I got it high enough that I could feel her panties between her legs. I was surprised. We had a kind of agreement that she wasn't supposed to wear underthings to our sessions. I touched her pussy and she stiffened. SO she'd been right. She really hadn't known whether she was going to go through with this tonight.

"Panties?" I asked. "You wore panties tonight?"

"I wasn't sure," she said nervously. "I wasn't sure if I was going to..."

I leaned back and looked at her, my anger flaring. "You weren't sure? You really weren't sure? Are you sure now, Emma? Or do you want to think about it some more?"

"No. I'm sure. Really, I'm sure. Conner, don't..."

I pulled her skirt up and shoved my hand down the front of her panties, hooked my finger beneath the soft crease of her pussy and parted her lips. She was smooth and wet and I could feel her greasy little clit lick at my finger like a tongue as I rubbed back and forth. Emma moaned and gasped and dropped her hands to her sides, clawing at the walls as if trying to hang on.

I leaned against her and the feel of her pussy in my hand made me hot with lust and hunger and a feeling of ownership, with a feeling of power and control. I loved the way she came alive at my touch, the way she responded. At the same time, the idea that she'd even considered denying me what was so clearly mine filled me with anger. I slid my finger into her as if to remind her who she belonged to, pushed into her without apology as my thumb played with her clit. My face was right against hers and I stared directly into her eyes, daring her to tell me no, just daring her—almost hoping she would. The idea that she could have someone else—a boyfriend, a lover, a fiancée, even a husband—who could touch her the way I did or feel about her the way I did just infuriated me.

She looked at me fearfully but didn't say a word. Her legs parted slightly and I pushed my finger in deeper, violating her, penetrating her, trying to hurt her and she closed her eyes and grimaced but accepted it. There had to be no doubt here who owned whom, and yet inside I wondered whose heart was beating faster? Who was more excited? Who had the power and who was surrendering to whom?

I pulled my finger out of her and she relaxed slightly, daring at last to breathe. I took her arm—"Come here"—pulled her over to the lectern and pushed her face down over it. "Here, on your elbows, ass up, legs straight. That's it. Now spread them. Keep your face down"

Emma did as she was told, leaning her forearms on the wooden lectern, keeping her knees straight so that her trunk was almost parallel to the floor. Her top was still up under her armpits her tits hung beneath her, heavy and free, distended by gravity. I undid her skirt and pulled down the zipper then yanked it down over her hips and let it slide down her legs. She stepped out of it, giving a little mewl of embarrassment at appearing so naked and exposed in so public a place as an auditorium, but she didn't protest. Her panties were thin, robin's egg blue, stretched across the firm globes of her buttocks and low enough so the top of her asscrack was visible, tight enough so the ripe bottoms of her cheeks emerged from beneath as well. I ran my hand over her ass, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin, slick fabric as she looked nervously back at me over her shoulder.

"Eyes front," I said as I caressed the humid pit of her sex between her legs. "So you weren't sure? You weren't sure you were going to give me this ass tonight?"

"Connor, I—"

I drew my hand back and gave her a good hard slap on the underside of her right buttock—a loud one, a slap that echoed in the empty auditorium like a gunshot and made her squeal and rise up on her toes in surprise.

"Owww! Conner! No! No! That's not what I meant!"

"Keep your hands on that lectern! Don't you dare take them off of there, Emma!"

Whapp!! I slapped her on the left cheek, just as hard, hard enough to make her drop her head and gasp, her fingers digging into the edge of the lectern as if she had to hang on

Smackk!!! Slappp!!! Two more blows, one on either cheeks, hard and sharp, and now my hand was starting to sting and her ass was jiggling and beginning to redden. The sting felt good and as I spanked her again, Emma gasped and jerked her head up, her mouth open in shock and something else—surprise maybe, but surprise at her own reaction, at finding she liked it, liked being spanked like this, treated like a naughty little high school slut.

I spanked her again. I was standing behind her and just to her left so I could swing my right hand back and land my blows squarely on the center of her ass, right on top of her innocent blue panties as her buttocks quaked and trembled and clenched together in reflexive avoidance.

Her hands were holding onto the top of the lectern and she lowered her face and rested her cheek against them, her brows knitted against the pain as she awaited the next blow, and how the emotions tore at me as I spanked her! Her fragile beauty and the way she offered herself up to my punishment brought out something both savage and tender in me, and I stopped the spanking, reached in front of her with my left hand and found her pussy and began to caress her, massaging and stroking her the way I knew she liked, washing away the pain with soothing tenderness. I caressed her ass as well, sliding my hand over her slick panties, feeling the heat from her beaten flesh through the fabric. The softness felt good against my tingling palm.

Emma began to grind herself against my hand, tentatively, as if checking to see whether the storm had passed. When she received no further spanks, she grew bolder. She began to search for pleasure, rolling her hips and her ass as she pushed her pussy against my fingers, working herself off. She became hungrier, more desperate. My fingers pressed the fabric of her panties up into her sticky slit and it felt as though she might somehow actually open up and take me inside, and at that point I realized she was about to seduce me with her need. I drew my right hand back and started spanking her again—Slapp!! Whapp!! Crackk!!—smacking her ass as I continued to massage her pussy, mixing pleasure and pain, sweetness and thunder, till Emma was clinging to the lectern and almost sobbing, humping and writhing like a bitch in heat, not sure which way to turn.

Now I was sweating too, my hand numb, my dick throbbing and oozing in my pants. I stepped back and pulled off my necktie as Emma writhed and moaned against the lectern, swiveling her ass shamelessly. I grabbed her wrists and used the tie to bind them behind her back. She didn't resist, just lay there with her face against pressed against the hard wood as I roughly tied her wrists together and she panted with urgent excitement. Even as I pulled the knot tight her ass continued to weave and undulate in obscene invitation as if it had a mind of its own and was hungry now for more punishment, more pleasure, for whatever I wanted to give her.

I pulled down her panties—pulled them down till they were stretched just above her knees—and exposed her naked buttocks and the swollen and glistening pussy that was nestled between them. I played with her and spanked her some more till her ass was a bright red and her moans had turned into a hoarse and urgent panting. Her hands were twisting in the bonds and her thighs were trembling, her copious lubricant was seeping over my fingers in shameful excess and dripping onto the floor, a sight that only made me spank her harder. I aroused her and punished her for being aroused at the same time. She stopped trying to protect herself or avoid the spanks, sticking her ass up high and humping savagely at the hand invading her pussy, desperate to get off.

It was bizarre, obscene. We were like the centerpiece in some classroom demonstration of carnal depravity, the overhead spotlight illuminating us on the dais as she bent slavishly over the lectern with her cheek pressed against the wood, her hands tied behind her, naked ass in the air while I spanked her and fingered her cunt and she moaned and writhed and gasped, the sounds echoing off the darkened walls. I was feverish with desire and couldn't resist her anymore. I fell to my knees behind her, grabbed the fronts of her thighs and pulled her ass back to me and buried my face in her cunt like an animal

"Oh! God!" she cried at this new outrage.

My nose pressed against her asshole and my tongue pierced her lips, sucked greedily at her flowing juices, slurped at her cunt, the lewd, slushy sounds enough to give even me goose bumps. I was sick, insane with lust for her. She clenched her ass and I felt it trap my face in the hot valley of her crack and I just slapped her again to make her let go, then reached around and began to frig her clit, beating her off and spanking her clit like it was a naughty little monkey, slapping my fingers into the wet sticky trough of her pussy.

Her cheek was pressed into the lectern, her face rolling back and forth so that her voice was muffled, but I heard her groans and entreaties and her nervous pleas. "Oh God! God, Conner! Someone could come in! Someone could come in!"

"Yeah. Let 'em," I said, my mouth full of her flesh

Before us was the entire auditorium, all these empty seats facing us as if peopled by ghostly observers, all of them watching us, watching Emma having her cunt eaten out from behind by a man squatting on his haunches like a lunatic ape. I got my pants open and pulled out my cock as I ate her and started beating off, my wrist rocking easily on that big stalk, working the skin up and down as I sealed my mouth against her pussy and pierced her with my tongue or let it slither along her juice-filled crease. When I pulled my mouth away, her mucus coated my lips and I pressed my mouth against her ass and flicked my tongue maddeningly against her tightly clenched asshole, making her squeal and lift her foot reflexively as if to push me away, as if this final outrage were just too much.

It wasn't too much for me. I grabbed her ankle and planted her foot right back down on the floor. Yes, I licked her asshole. I spread her asscheeks and tried to work my tongue into her and she screamed and clenched her butt until I slapped her again to make her relax to show her there was no part of her I wouldn't take if I wanted to.

And once we established that—once she accepted that every piece of her was mine—I stood up with a look of grim satisfaction on my face and opened my belt and let my pants drop and my cock spring free. I looked down at that beautiful body bound and bent before me. I knew then that she was mine—mine to have, mine to fuck, mine to do with as I pleased. The previous sessions had been seductions on my part and I'd taken her, but this time I'd waited for her to come to me, and she had. She'd come to me and that made all the difference. She was complicit in this affair. She'd accepted the terms, and she knew very well what they were.

Emma waited breathlessly as I moved into position behind her. My handprints were all over her ass, her juice was dripping from the pouting, swollen lips of her pussy. She didn't move, didn't breathe as I ran my hands over my property, then shuffled forward with my pants around my ankles, shuffled forward and pressed the head of my cock against her opening.

I felt her stiffen for an instant. Her pussy seemed to suck inward in sudden, automatic reflex, then I took hold of her hips and leaned back like a cowboy and slid that long shaft into her cunt and could almost hear it sizzle like a bar of white hot iron quenched in a trough of oil.

"Ohhhhh! Conner! Conner!!!"

"Fuck!" I spat.

The pleasure was so intense I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, and already I felt my balls churning, ready to spit. She was so hot, so tight, so perfect, and it was her—Emma—mine. So she had a boy friend, she had a fiancée. She'd had men before and she'd have them again. But for tonight, this one was mine: my slave, my beauty, my lover, my woman—and she was all that I could ever want. I pushed in deeper and felt her hot ass press against my belly and heard her moan of fulfillment as I stuffed her so full of cock that she finally slid forward on the lectern, unable to take anymore.

"Oh yessss...!"

I could look down and see my shaft stretching the tight ring of muscle at the entrance to her pussy. I could picture that hard meat inside of her, pressing against her tissues, stimulating her secret nerve endings, sending hormones gushing through her bloodstream and hot, shuddery ripples of pleasure along her nerves, her legs, her spine, up to her fevered brain. She was tied, helpless, naked in that auditorium, panties pulled down around her legs—there to be fucked and take it, there to be used, to be filled with my come.

"Jesus!" I swore. "Oh fuck!"

I grabbed her hips and started fucking into the slick clutch of her cunt, punching my hips into her and pulling her back onto my thrusting shaft, hearing the wet slap of her ass against me, her lewd, helpless moans. Her tits were swinging back and forth like sandbags as I fucked her. My balls were swinging too, and as I pumped her against me I felt viscous strings of our commingled juices swing against my thighs and stick there as they seeped from her pussy.

"Good, isn't it?" I snarled at her. "You like being fucked like this, Emma? You like driving me so crazy I fuck you like this?"

She just moaned, too overwhelmed with the lewdness of her position to speak. I reached over and grabbed her hair, pulled her head up so she arched her back and I suddenly increased the tempo, double-timing, fucking her so fast that the slap of her tits against her chest joined the obscene chorus of sexual noises we were making. Her long, constant moan of salacious pleasure was punctuated by sharp, involuntary, animal-like grunts as I punched into her, sending my tool slithering deep and knocking the wind out of her.

Through the hot red haze of my primal fucklust I remembered her clit, how she loved to be played with—that hot, swollen love bud nestled between her lips and I reached down into her swampy cunt and spread her apart and forked my fingers around it and then squeezed just enough to make her whine, then started beating her off as I fucked her, sliding my hand up and back while holding her hair in one hand and pulling her face up like a headsman's trophy.

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!" she chanted mindlessly, overcome by the double sensation of being fucked and played with. I could shove my dick into her and hold it there and then vibrate her clit so fast I could feel it in my shaft, like she was a human vibrator. It felt good. It felt insanely good.

There was nothing Emma could do but scream. My hand was in her hair, her chest was pressed against the podium and her wrists tied behind her back, my cock was pumping in and out of that sweet little cunt and my fingers were digging and vibrating against her engorged clit as her juice poured and slopped over my fingers. She screamed—screamed in pleasure and total submission, screamed as her I took her and rode her hard and gave her just what she wanted. Screamed as I felt her cunt convulse and her body begin to hunch and jerk against me, out of control as she came, legs shaking, choking on her own cries of release, hands twisting in her bonds.

I pulled up on her cunt, pulled it tight like a rubber glove around me and shoved deep, rising up on my toes to make her take every last fucking inch of cock, then I grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her down against the lectern as I felt it start. I wanted to hold her right there as I shot it into her—right there—mine, mine! I threw my head back in ecstasy and growled like a lion with his kill as I felt the thick bolts of come gush up from the well of my soul and thunder down my cock to spew hard and heavy into Emma's quivering sheath, one after another, each a burning jolt of fiery bliss and absolute triumph, an explosion of fulfillment, sending my soul into her—my need, my strength, my love.

I poured it into her—marking her, branding her, making her mine—standing above her on the podium like a king over his slave and watching my cock jerk and spit into her body as if it weren't even mine—as if our bodies spoke directly one to another—and even in my moment of triumph I felt her take possession of my soul just as she took possession of my come. I felt her conquer me with her very submission, and I knew as the final pleasure of climax seeped through my body like warm honey that I was totally lost.

*****

There was no place else to go and so I'd opened a folding chair down in front of the lectern and sat there with Emma in my lap, naked except for her top. I was dressed, and that was part of it, a sign of her status. She didn't seem to mind, and in fact, she found my desire to hold her afterwards strange but terribly gratifying. Apparently she'd always felt that revealing the wild and submissive side of her sexuality would somehow disqualify her from receiving affection afterwards, as if she were no more than a whore. My need to hold and caress her and keep her close almost seemed to embarrass her at first, and it took her a while to realize that I was serious and not just doing it to patronize her.

I loved to hold her, though. I especially loved to play with her and feel my come dripping from her pussy. It was like a mark of ownership, and it made me proud in a terribly selfish, embarrassingly male kind of way. So she sat there in my lap with my left arm around her, her legs slightly apart as I kissed and nuzzled her breasts and slid my fingers around, smearing my come over her thighs, lost in that post-orgasmic sense of peace and fulfillment.

"Conner?"

"Yes?"

"This is dumb, but do you mind if I talk?"

"About what?"

"You know. About him?"

I never stopped licking her breasts. "If you want," I said. I really didn't care.

She seemed to be gathering her thoughts, and whether consciously or unconsciously I don't know, but I started playing with her pussy. Emma's arms were around my neck, and she tightened them slightly and leaned back a bit so she could open her legs more. That made her breasts more accessible and I sucked a nipple between my lips and began to suck as my hand of its own volition started to seriously massage her pussy.

I didn't do this on purpose. I wasn't trying to shut her up or distract her, but Emma's extremely orgasmic. It's one of the amazing things about her. She turns on extremely quickly and has a very short latency period between orgasms. It was something I was just discovering at the time but had not yet fully realized.

"What?" I asked. "What did you want to say?"

She was already breathing faster.

"Never mind," she whispered, her hand gripping the back of my neck. "It's not important."

I lowered her till she was more nearly lying recumbent across my lap and continued playing with her, sliding my fingers over her come-slick clit and up and down her crease and Emma seemed to go limp and tense at the same time. I could look down at her face and see the pleasure of my hand take her and render her helpless. Her hips started to move.

"God, when you touch me!" she gasped. "God, Conner! What are you doing to me?"

I found her clit. I knew what she liked. Her hips started to move with purpose now, lewd, obscene purpose, pumping, lifting against my fingers, the muscles in her stomach knotting. She opened her eyes a slit and looked at me.

"You make me so bad!" she whispered.

"I love you this way!" I said. "Now give it to me, Emma. You know what I want. Give it to me!"