Detention for Kim Ch. 03

His hands fell on my thighs, and he pushed forward slowly, bringing himself to the cusp of my womanhood. To say it was a painless experience would be lying, but I also firmly believe that despite our taboo relationship, and despite the debauched things I have done with Mr. Poln since then, he took me like the most caring of lovers. Mr. Poln, even in his dominating embrace, even when I was but a timid teenage girl on her knees on tile floor, sucking him to climax and cringing at the cum, had never scared me. His mastery of me, of my body, came from something beyond fear, something beyond abuse. Something I was all too willing to give in to, and something that eased my first time into a moment so thrilling and delightful that I felt wonderfully happy to experience it.

By the time the pain from my lost virginity faded, Mr. Poln was slowly taking me, having at me with steady, slow thrusts. From the expression on his face, I could tell it had been a very long time since he had been inside a woman. It was a mix of relief, pleasure, and an almost reminiscent glow, as if he was remembering what pussy felt like. His hands moved from my thighs to brace against his desk, and he loomed over me, his thrusts growing a bit quicker, and taking me a little deeper. My walls clutched him tight, each motion of his cock drawing out new levels of moisture from me, new excitements that I didn't know I could feel. I was lined with sweat as I reached a hand out, and dared to cross the gap between us to move my fingers into my teacher's brown hair, tangling in the locks, and holding onto him with a loose grip. His older features bent into a smile, and I could feel my tongue pass over my braces once more from the building habit. We were rocking in time now, the smell of sex undeniable in the room, and my young frame firmly pinned underneath my diligent teacher.

We didn't say much; although I was almost constantly moaning, whimpering, or biting on my fingers to avoid outright screaming. The dim history classroom was filled briefly with the sound of busses going past, and I remember not even caring if the blinds were drawn down far enough, or the windows tilted away from it enough. Before too long I had moved my legs forward, and had taken the initiative to wrap them around Mr. Poln's waist, linking my ankles together to make sure our union was firmly connected. I was still wearing my schoolgirl skirt, flipped up now so Mr. Poln could watch himself deflowering his student, but I also still wore my kneesocks and shoes, a stripe of white leading into stark black along each leg. My ankles shifted and I threw my head back, whimpering in passion as I ground my hips against my teacher's, eager to feel more of what he could do to my body.

"Such a good student..." Mr. Poln smirked as one of his hands moved up, brushing past my cheek, and pressing his thumb against my lips. I willingly parted them, taking his digit against my tongue, and suckling on it as if it were his member. My eyes were heady and lust-filled through my glasses, and I stared at him like the broken doll that I had become. I gave a murmur of agreement with his words around his thumb, and my hands moved to rest on his shoulders, hanging onto him so that he couldn't thrust me right off the desk.

"I'm giving you some homework for tonight, Kim," he continued, his hips still rocking forward, his member still hilting me amidst the livid gasps I was offering around his thumb. My eyes blearily opened and I tried to focus, for even as I was being taken by my teacher, the idea of homework still registered as something my diligent side should pay attention to. As he administered it I could feel myself melt, drawn even more into the haze. "You're going to do some research....mmn. Look up positions. And tomorrow, you're going to tell me how you want me to fuck you."

My cheeks flushed at that, the idea of being given that tiny level of control making my entire body tremble. I was to think about positions...and decide which one my teacher would use to take me. And then, openly ask him to do it. The idea rattled around in my mind, instantly spinning with possibilities, but at the moment I couldn't offer him any more than a moaning nod as my walls tightened further around him. Mr. Poln just grinned, and braced his hands against my stomach, starting to thrust harder into me.

"Good," he breathed out; sweat starting to line his brow, and his face beginning to show signs of strain. His cock took me deep on every thrust, and just as the desk made aching sounds on each motion, I too made noises of my own threats to shatter. Mr. Poln's voice drowned us both out though, and as he spoke I could tell that the moment was coming very close, for both of us. "You belong to me now, Kim."

The words echoed inside of me, and combined with the pistoning of his member, I lost my control and exploded in desire. My voice carried out into a sudden moan, my glasses falling from my face to the desk below, and my sex convulsing tightly around my teacher's cock. Mr. Poln met his own peak, but his older sense of responsibility kicked in, and just before his moment arose he yanked himself free, grabbing his member and giving it the last final jerk to completion. While my sex twitched and convulsed, I could feel the spray of his cum against my hood, slathering me in cream, before shooting up and across my body. Like white hot bullets I felt his strikes of cum riddle my body, one against my stomach, one over my chest, and most distant of all, one that splashed over my face, crossing my open mouth from my chin to the bridge of my nose.

My tongue licked across my braces, this time with the flavor of my teacher's cum as a reward.

Mr. Poln pulled back after the moment ended, and my legs were left to dangle over the edge of the desk. I hadn't been filled with his seed, but what he shot against my hood now drizzled down my sex, travelling the course of my pussy to pool against the flat surface of his desk. My hands idly worked to collect the seed that had been shot against my stomach and chest, and I toyed with it, feeling the texture and consistency in my digits, before I let the dirty fingers travel to my mouth. While Mr. Poln watched me, I licked his cum from my fingers, like the good girl I had been trained to be. Trained by my parents, trained by my school, trained by my teacher.

And the good girl always did what her teacher said.

The good girl always did her homework.