Can't Say No Ch. 02

Instead of biting him, I swirled my tongue as I moved up and down. Mr. Stevenson responded by moaning and bucking his hips. His thrusts hit against the back of my throat. I resisted the urge to gag and picked up the pace.

"That's it, Jessie," said Mr. Stevenson. He pulled hard against my ponytail and my mouth popped off of him, breaking my concentration. My face had become flush and I was frustrated he interrupted my rhythm.

"Now don't give me that look. We're not finished yet," said Mr. Stevenson, "stand up."

As I stood, Mr. Stevenson pulled down my skirt and underwear. I tried to protest as my skirt reached my ankles.

"Can't we just go back to what we we're doing?" I asked. There wasn't much beyond a blowjob, and sex wasn't an option.

"Your education isn't complete yet," said Mr. Stevenson. "It's my job to prepare you for everything that's out there." I felt the urge to argue, but I felt foolish standing in front of him. I was completely naked now. With the exception of his penis, he was still fully clothed. He pulled me onto his lap and spread my legs apart. I opened my mouth to protest, "I don't want to have sex with you Mr. Stevenson."

Mr. Stevenson paused for a moment, then wrapped his hands around my butt and squeezed me. His touch felt invasive, and I wanted to rip his hands away. He gave me another squeeze, before finally turning to look at me.

"You know that's not up to you, Jessie," said Mr. Stevenson. The tone he gave me was impatient, like I was a child throwing a tantrum. "Becoming a woman is about learning to have decisions made for you. I really hoped you'd understand by now. I guess I still have to teach you." Mr. Stevenson pulled himself up so we were at eye level. I met his gaze.

"Now, were going to have sex with each other. You're not going to cause a problem for us, are you Jessie?" Mr. Stevenson asked. The way he spoke was patronizing. He was a counselor and had no right to treat me with such disrespect. I opened my mouth to tell him off, then shut it again.

Mr. Stevenson had informed me of his intention to have sex. The language was clear. By law, it was all he needed to do. If I didn't acquiesce, I would be the guilty party. The realization made my shoulders slump, and I dropped my gaze from his.

He patted my butt, "Good girl. I didn't think you were completely stupid."

Mr. Stevenson rubbed himself on the outside of my vagina for a moment before pressing at the entrance. I winced. The momentarily pleasurable friction turned into pain as he pressed into me. I was not even close to recovered from the morning's events. I looked and saw his precum smeared across my leg.

"It's ok," said Mr. Stevenson. "It'll hurt your first time, but then you'll start to feel good." His forward pressure hurt as my body slowly gave way to him. Slowly, I slid down him until I was spread on his lap. His dick felt painfully inside of me.

"Now Jessie. Some men are going to want a woman to know how to do the work. I'm going to guide you at first, but then I want you to make me cum with only your movements. You're a very fit girl, so you should have no problem," said Mr. Stevenson.

"Wait, I don't want you to cumming inside of me. Can't we do it some other way?" I asked. Mr. Stevenson laughed and stroked my cheek with his hand, then he gave me a playful slap.

"Cumming inside of you is the whole point, silly. I need to prepare you for what's out there. Now." He placed a finger over my lips to shush me. I felt indignant as he guided my butt up and down his shaft. He groaned, "now you're going to do it all on your own."

Mr. Stevenson took his hands off me and sat back. Uncertain, I began to mimic the motions he had guided me through. As I worked up and down, he sat back and closed his eyes. A serene smile passed over his face. I decided at that moment Mr. Stevenson was a bastard, just like Mr. Lunder. He didn't care about me; he just was just another person looking to get himself off.

I slid up and down for a while. At first, it was uncomfortable, but then I discovered if I rocked forward into him, the sensation became more pleasant. I picked up the pace slightly.

"Now you are getting it, you're such a good girl Jessie," Mr. Stevenson didn't even open his eyes as he spoke. Asshole. I would get him off and that would be the end of it.

Still, I wasn't sure how I was going to get him off and avoid him cumming inside of me. As if he could read my thoughts, Mr. Stevenson opened his mouth.

"I know you're nervous Jessie, but I'm going to need you to keep going all the way through completion. If you stop early, you'll be in a lot of trouble and we don't want that," he said.

My mind ran through the options as I ground my hips back and forth. There was no misinterpreting what he said. I would have to make him finish, and then I would have to let him cum inside of me. It was a disaster, still maybe it would be ok. Guys didn't always get girls pregnant every time. I might be lucky?

Pushing the troublesome thought out of my mind, I focused on the good feelings. Pleasurable sparks shot though my body every time I rocked forward. I repeated the motion, over and over letting the feeling build. I focused on my breathing. My hips were strong and smooth as I pressed into him.

Beneath me Mr. Stevenson's breath became loud, "Get ready for me, Jessie."

I frowned, I didn't want him done yet, I wanted more out of this, "Wait, not yet." I bucked my hips forward desperately trying to hold onto my pent-up feeling.

Mr. Stevenson's sigh transformed into a groan of ecstasy, "yes, Jessie. You're a good girl. Here's your reward." Inside me I felt his dick start to pulse. Horrified, I realized he was shooting his load into me.

I felt trapped as Mr. Stevenson's groan continued.

"I'm going to ruin your tight body, Jessie, now take all of me," he said. Alarm bells told me to jump off of him, but he had told me not to. If I stopped, I might be in trouble. Indecisive, I continued to rock up and down. The pleasurable sparks receded as he filled me up. Eventually, he put his hands on my hips and pulled me to a stop.

I could feel the wetness as I sat on top of him. My mind was still clouded with strange emotions. It took a few moments for the terrible realization of what happened to hit me.

My lingering hunger was replaced by cold fear.

Mr. Stevenson seemed to come back to himself after a long moment, "your work is done now, Jessie. You can get off of me."

Slowly, I pulled myself off of him. As the seal broke, I saw his semen fall out of me. There was still time I realized, I needed to get everything out immediately. There was no time to lose. I reached for the tissue box, but his hand shot out and grabbed me.

"No, leave it. I'll help you get dressed," Mr. Stevenson said. Grudgingly, I took my hand off the tissue box and pulled my panties and skirt off the floor. He supervised me as I dressed, all the while my mind was whirring. Every second I wasted; Mr. Stevenson's semen made its way further inside of me.

Oblivious to my panic, Mr. Stevenson insisted on buttoning my shirt. His hands moved agonizingly slow. He held his hand over my abs when he finished.

There wasn't a single opportunity to clean myself off, or scoop out the semen left inside of me. He held me and stroked my face with his hand.

"Do you understand what I was teaching you now?" he asked. I didn't want to sit here and be held while Mr. Stevenson justified his actions. I needed to get out of there, precious seconds were ticking by. Silence, I realized he was waiting for me to speak.

"Yes, I understand. I need to go the bathroom; can I please go?" I asked.

"There's no rush," he said. I screamed internally as his arms held me tighter. Minutes ticked by. Third hour was nearly over. Finally, he let me go and I made for the door.

Mr. Stevenson looked me over and gave me a nod of approval.

"Good, you'll be back here the same time tomorrow," he said.

I looked at him incredulous, "You can't mean it. I need my free periods to practice." But Mr. Stevenson was already shaking his head.

"I'm afraid not. I only have two semesters to prepare you for the world out there, and I intend to make the most of them. Please go straight to your next class. No stops." He walked to the door and held it open.

Outside, the bell rang signaling the end of third period. Feeling dejected I walked into the hallway which was now flooding with students. Thoroughly sore, I adopted a somewhat awkward gate as I walked through the hall. I stared longingly at the bathroom as I walked past. There might still be time to scoop some semen out, it was my last chance.

I looked over my shoulder and made eye contact with Mr. Stevenson down the hall—he had told me to go straight to class—I had no choice but to leave the bathroom behind.

Any hope of removing his semen was gone now. After fourth hour would be too late.

At this point my hair and clothes were completely disheveled. I felt the wetness in my crotch grow as I walked. Mr. Stevenson's semen was slowly dripping out of me. Every drip was a taunting reminder of the consequences. Drip.

People were staring at me now. Drip. I must've looked as worn as I felt. Drip.

Someone shouldered me hard making me stumble. It was Emily.

"So, you're too mad to even practice with me now?" said Emily. "I already told you I was sorry for sharing your stupid schedule, how is this fair?"

I didn't wasn't sure what she was talking about. Then I remembered, I'd missed our third period practice.

"Wait, Mr. Steven—"

"Forget it," Emily spoke over me. She took in my clothes and hair, "I'm sure you had a good reason." She walked away before I could respond. Drip.

My day wasn't even half over. Drip.