F is for Fail

"Uhhh," I gasped, my back arching a little as his hand reached down between us and removed mine, and he pushed. He didn't slide into me. He pushed, and my eyes widened as I felt myself stretch.

"Uhhhh." Open.

"Nnnhhhhh." Big, he was so big, and he pressed hugely against me, a steady relentless pressure that forced me to open to him, and he pushed and pushed and pushed, and slowly, so slowly, my body surrendered to him, and I knew it was going to happen.

"Nnnnuhhhhhh." My head jerked back, my mouth worked, my back arched, my knees clutched at his ribs, and a good Chinese girl would have stopped him long ago, but I didn't want to be good. I wanted to be his, and I was going to be. I was going to be. I was...and his hands moved, took mine, his hands pinned mine to the daybed above my head, just as his weight pinned me beneath him, and he wasn't stopping.

"Nnnnnnhhhhh." I was stretching. Opening to him, and I knew it was going to...he was going to...

"Ohhh... oooohhhhhh." My back arched, my head arched back, my hands clutched at his, and I juddered beneath him as his cockhead entered me and paused, inside me, and it was big. Big, and he's stretching me around him, I can feel him there, forcing me to shape to him,and when he eased back a little, his glans tugged at me there, where I clasped him, a gentle movement that sent little ripples rolling through me.

"Krystina," he groaned, and I felt him shudder, felt him tense as he looked down into my eyes, his nose brushing mine, and then he kissed me and he moved, his cock moved, inside me, gently thrusting, pushing, forcing higher, stretching my channel walls, and I felt him inside me, so big, so thick, thrusting, sliding, exquisite friction at the juncture of my thighs and where he entered me.

"Ohhhhh," I sobbed. "Ohhhhhh," and I was alternately limp and tense beneath him, relaxing as he eased back a little, tensing as he thrust himself back inwards, again and again, slowly, gently easing himself deeper and deeper inside me, I was waiting for it to hurt, but it didn't hurt at all, and it was feeling better and better, more and more exciting with every movement he made.

"Tight, Krystina," he groaned, kissing me, his lips butterflying across my face as my mouth opened wide and my lips sought his. "You're so tight... I want you... I have to..."

"Ohhhhh,"I groaned, my knees clasping his ribs,my heels riding the small of his back as his butt rose and fell, as his cock eased in, eased outwards, pushed inwards once more, huge in me, new in me, and nothing had prepared me for this.

"Ohhhhh." This penetration within my body, this male weight on me, spreading me wide, entering me at the juncture of my thighs, filling my sex with his rigid hardness, and I welcomed him. I wanted him. I wanted him to take me, possess me, fill me where I was made to be one with him, and I wanted to be one with him. I wanted everything he had to give me.

"Yes... yes, Mr. Montoya... yes..." and I knew I was. I was taking him, we were making love, and his cock was pushing deeper, not pausing, sliding in and out of me, steadily, again and again, and he was taking more of me with every movement, and I was so hot and wet and slippery tight on him, his cock sliding thickly against my channel walls, sliding against me where I clasped him so tight where he entered me.

"Krystina... Krystina..." He breathed my name as if was some magical spell, his eyes looked down into mine, and it was as if he was possessing my mind as he possessed my body, and he was possessing my body, pressing higher inside me now, and his cock was huge inside me, huge and long and penetrating so deeply. Impossibly deeply.

"Ohhh... ohhh... ohhhh." I sobbed with every movement of that rigid, steely hardness. Impossibly hard, and he was stretching me everywhere inside now, stretching me where our bodies joined, and the sliding friction of his movements was exquisite, and then he was pressed up against me where we joined, straining against me, crushing himself against my sex and my back arched upwards, my knees clutched at his ribs, my feet kicked helpless in the air, and he was all inside me,his cockhead so deep and high within my body, and it seemed impossible that he had, that I had, but he was all inside me. I'd taken him. I was his.

"You're mine, Krystina." His lips brushed mine, his mouth possessed mine, and we were one, joined, and I knew I was his. Knew I wasn't a virgin anymore. Knew he'd taken me, and I could feel him, inside me, filling me, his cockhead so high in me, and his slow movements told me we were only starting, and I wanted everything, all the way to the end.

"I am," I moaned. "I am... I'm yours."

"Are you..? Did I hurt you?" he breathed, and now he held himself still inside me, and my sex was adapting to him inside me, where nothing had ever been, and I wasn't thinking. I was feeling. I was experiencing it. I was living my surrender to him, his weight on me, not crushing me, but pressed against me, everywhere, overwhelming me with sensation. With pleasure.

My thighs cradling him, my knees clutching at his ribs, my heels rested on the small of his back, my boobs pressed against his chest, my hands pinned to the daybed above my head by his, the daybed so firm beneath me, and overriding everything, there was that fullness, that rigid steely presence inside me, inside my body, filling my sex, telling me that I was his. His to make love to. His to take. His to enjoy, and I wanted him to enjoy me. I wanted him to everything me.

"I'm fine," I gasped. "It doesn't hurt... don't stop... please don't stop."

"I won't, Krystina," he breathed, and his lips brushed mine. "You're mine now. You'll always be mine."

"Yes," I moaned. "Yes," and I wanted nothing more than to be his, always, as he began to move inside me. Move on me, and he eased his cock in and out, in and out, drawing back, thrusting into me until all of him was inside me, and he was pressed against me, and then he did it again. And again. And again, and with every movement my breath puffed out, my back arched, and I gasped, I moaned, I sobbed, I juddered, and my hands clutched at his where they pinned mine to the daybed above my head and I was his, I knew I was his.

I was there for him, there to give myself to him, and I have, and it was good. It was so good as he moved inside me, his cock sheathing itself inside me, sliding out, sliding in, exquisite sensation where he entered my body, the thick friction of his movements sending wave after wave of pleasure rippling through me, pooling at my center, a pool of molten need and excitement that was growing with every thrust of him into me.

"Can I, Krystina?" he groaned, and he didn't stop moving. In me. On me.

"Yes... yes," I sobbed, and I didn't have any idea what he was asking, but it didn't matter. Whatever he wanted, I knew I'd say yes to.

Without saying a word, he began to move a little faster, a little harder, and now he went deep on each stroke, easing all the way back, thrusting in until his pelvis hit my clitoris at the end of each in-stroke, and every time he did that, another surging rush of sensation rushed through me, and I wanted more. I needed more.

"Harder," I moaned. "Harder," and my body was tingling, burning, on fire, and he did. He moved faster, he gave me harder, picking up speed, long full thrusts that gave me all his rigid length in one long thick slide after another, that left his cockhead high and deep within me, again and again, and my body was alive with sensation. Alive with pleasure. A pleasure that his body moving on mine fed, and I was sobbing, moaning, crying out with every movement, so aware of my own body in a way I'd never been aware of myself before.

""Ohhh... ohhh... ohhhhh." His weight on me, his skin against mine, everywhere. My thighs spread wide, cradling him as I took his thrusts, and that molten heat inside me was bubbling, coming to a boil, demanding more. Wanting more, needing more, and I wanted to move on him, craving those thick slides, craving the friction of his movements, my skin slippery with sweat, my sex so wet that every movement brought those wet sounds that I was hearing for the first time.

"Uhhhhh... nnhhhh... hhuuunnnhhh..." Those sounds I made were unintelligible, not words but raw emotion and pleasure, escaping me without any thought as my body reacted, and I knew this was what my body was for. For this. For Mr. Montoya to make love to. For him to use me as woman's body was made to be used, and I crossed my ankles behind the small of his back, and I did my best to move myself on him, pulling myself onto him, squeezing him, enjoying those groans of pleasure that escaped him, because it was me that was causing those hoarse sounds to escape him, and something was close.

So close, rising inside me. Something huge and inescapable, taking away thought, taking everything away except him and me and that need to find out what it was. Pleasure. Excitement, it was indescribable, and I was close. Close, and every movement of his inside me and on me brought me closer, and he kept on. On and on, his movements more urgent now. Urgent and relentless, and somehow I knew there was no stopping him. No slowing that urgent need, and soon I'd know. Soon.

"I have to," he groaned. "I have to," and I had no idea what he was talking about, but his movements became suddenly harder and faster, and I knew he wasn't making love to me now. He was fucking me, and inside me something crested high, and began to break.

"Ohhh... ohhhhhh... ohhhhhhhhh." My sex danced on his cock. Spasms and clutches and squeezes and that tidal wave of ecstasy lifted me up, and I was clutching helplessly at his hands where they still pinned mine to the daybed as my pleasure overwhelmed me, a golden rushing tide filling me from the tips of my toes to the ends of my fingers to the tips of my ears and it was so good I wanted to scream, but all that came out were choked off little sobs as I climaxed, my feet beating helplessly against the small of his back, and he didn't stop.

Not for a second, and seconds later, I climaxed again, even more helplessly, and my body was his. Completely his, and I knew that, and he did too.

"Krystina," Eliijah grunted, and I groaned and jerked beneath him as he pushed harder, pushed his cockhead half an inch deeper and I took it, took all he had to give me, and in that moment, I was nothing but a tight slippery hot sheath clasping that big hard cock inside me. and he started to move while that second climax washed through me and I wanted it so bad, and it was going to be soon. Somehow I knew he was coming to his culmination, and I was groaning. I was, and I wanted him to finish, I wanted to find out,to experience, and I didn't care that he wasn't using any protection.

I wanted him to finish in me so bad.

"Uhhhhhhhhh." He groaned, a long low groan of pleasure, holding himself deep inside me, pressed up hard against me and his cock penetrated me so deeply. Rigid, thick, hard as steel, his muscles tensed against me, his muscular body heavy on me, his size and raw male power dominated my senses. His cock throbbed, a deep pulsing throb that I felt pulsing against the walls of my channel and then he humped himself hard against me, into me and he began to climax. Inside me, and when it happened, I knew.

"Ohhhhhh." My head arched back, my back arched, my eyes widen and my mouth was a round "O" and I would've screamed out loud except that the sensation as I took that first jetting spurt of his semen within my sex overwhelmed me, and there was nothing else.

Only his cock, throbbing inside me as he spurted that first thick hot jet of his semen out inside me, reaching his culmination within me, and it was only the first. Only the first, and I knew this was what I was for as I took the next. And the next. And the one after that, as his cock throbbed and pulsed inside me, on and on until he was finished, and I shuddered convulsively beneath him as our bodies relaxed, suddenly limp in the aftermath of our mutual pleasure, and I would have smiled if I could have stopped panting long enough.

Mr. Montoya smiled down at me and he was still breathing hard. Me, I was lying beneath him, his weight on me, spread wide for him, and I shuddered and quivered and whimpered and clutched at him as my body shivered through the aftermath of that orgasmic climax and I couldn't believe how good that felt. I was just glowing as my sex danced and spasmed on his cock, knowing he'd finished inside me, flooding me, and my knees were still clamped to his ribs and my hands clutched at him and he'd made love to me and I couldn't believe it could be so good.

Lying beneath him on that daybed in that little office at the back of his classroom, I knew I'd found paradise, and paradise was Mr. Montoya making love to me. Paradise was Mr. Montoya's body, naked against mine, his lips brushing mine, his cock inside me, and he'd finished inside me, and there was that unfamiliar wetness, that slow pulsing throb of him where I still clasped him, and he had.

He'd really made love to me. He was over me, his face looking down at mine, his weight heavy on me and my legs were spread wide for him, cradling him, and he was still inside me, still big and hard and I could feel him in me and I wasn't a virgin anymore and my sex spasmed on him and he'd finished inside me and I knew, I just knew, I was so fucked. Completely fucked and I loved it. I loved what we'd done. I loved that he was the one that had done it to me.

I wanted to do it again.

Looking up into his eyes, his naked body pressed against mine, I loved him so much and I wanted to do this with him again and again and again. I wanted him to teach me everything and I didn't care that I was lying on an old daybed at the back of his school office. I didn't care that it wasn't the most romantic place to lose my virginity in. All I cared about was that Mr. Montoya had done it with me, he'd made love to me and I lay beneath him, just looking up at him and I'd never done anything like this before and I didn't just like it. I loved it.

"I'm going to give you a homework assignment, Krystina," Mr. Montoya said, kissing me. A long slow kiss that went on and on.

"Huh?" I said, at last, kind of wondering what sort of homework assignment you could be given for something like this.

He smiled, and that smile was wicked. Wicked enough that little thrills ran through me. "For our Thursday afternoon tutorial session," he said, "I want you to decide what position you'd like me to make love to you in."

He grinned. "Now we better get dressed and do some physics. Your dad's paying me to tutor you, so we better do some."

"Yes, Mr. Montoya," I said, and then there was that moment of loss as he eased himself out from inside me, and I felt suddenly empty, as if part of me had gone. It was the first time I'd felt that loss, and I wanted him to hold me close, and he knew. He did, his arms around me, turning me to him, so that now he was on his back and it was me lying half on him, my head on his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his sweat and of our love-making.

"I love you, Mr. Montoya," I whispered, almost inaudibly, and I don't know if he heard me at all, and I didn't say it again, but I did. I loved him so much. I loved his body against mine. His arm around me, his hand on my butt, his other hand brushing my hair back, and there was that momentary puzzle as I felt myself so wet on his thigh, and then I realized what it was.

"Uh..." I said, half sitting up, looking at myself, and that must be his semen, and there was blood there too, and I wasn't afraid or startled, I was curious, watching his semen trickling from me, seeing myself there, puffy and a little swollen, beads of his semen in my pubic hair, what there was of it.

"Here," he said, handing me a wet wipe, and I smiled and took it, and I wasn't embarrassed at all when he took another one and helped me.

"There's a lot of it," I said, watching, because there was more oozing out, and I watched as he wiped it up, delicately.

"Mmmmm," he said, then, "are you using any contraceptives, Krystina?"

"No," I said, and I hadn't even thought about it, but we hadn't used any protection,and for a moment, I thought about having his baby, and I looked at him, and half-opened my mouth to say so, except that he smiled and touched my lips with his finger, and I was sure he knew what I'd been thinking.

"We'll deal with that on the way home," he said. "Let's get dressed now," and he helped me find my clothes, as well as his, and while I was dressing, and he was watching me, I was already thinking about Thursday after school. I'd do some serious research tonight and I did like it that Mr. Montoya took his tutoring so seriously. My Dad always said if you took a job on, you should do it well and, well, I felt extremely well done. Someone had done a good job this afternoon.

I knew I was going to take my homework seriously. My Dad was paying Mr. Montoya to tutor me, and I was going to make sure my Dad got his money's worth. Mr. Montoya had a job to do and me? I was going to do everything I could to make sure he did that job well.

That all happened four months ago now, and yeah, for the last four months I've been tutored by Mr. Montoya in his little office off of his home room at High School twice a week. Sometimes I wish we could go to his house, or we could spend the night together somewhere, or even just date like a normal girl and her boyfriend and, you know, make out in his car or something, but with my parents, and him being a teacher and everything, we can't do that because someone might see us, and I'm still one of his students.

His little office at High School, nobody at all knows about it. It's always locked and not even the cleaners go in there, because Mr. Montoya changed the locks to make sure, and when we're in there, it's like we're in our own little room. He has some rugs on the floor now, and there's some cushions and even a duvet for if it gets cold, and we can do whatever we like in there, and we do, and no-one knows.

My parents don't mind at all that my tutoring sessions are much longer than they're paying for. They think they're getting value for money, and they're not wrong. Mr. Montoya really is tutoring me in Physics, and he takes his job very seriously. I know I'm going to ace those end of year exams. He tutors me in our other subject even more intensively, and I know that by the time I graduate, I'm going to ace Mr. Montoya's final exam in that subject too.

So yeah, that was how I ended up four months later in Mr. Montoya's office behind his classroom seated on him, with his cock buried inside me and my sex full of his cum and wearing nothing but my white school socks and my white school blouse hanging open, and my skirt round my waist and just glowing.

"High School's nearly over, Krystina," Mr. Montoya murmured, brushing my hair back from my sweat-soaked forehead. He smiled and then he tilted my face up and kissed me gently, a slow brush of his lips against mine. "You're going to ace Physics." He chuckled. "You're going to ace everything, and you won't be getting an F for Sex either, that's for sure."

"What?" It came out as a moan rather than a squeal. "How did you know about that?"

He smiled, his lips brushing mine. "A Plus," he said, and his cock was moving inside me, swelling, getting harder and I felt it inside me.

"Ohhhhhh," I moaned, my eyes widening. "Do you want to tutor me some more?"

"You bet," he breathed, and he was as hard as he was when we started now, and my sex did a little dance on him and my back arched. "Your parents are paying me to tutor you, Krystina. I'm a tough tutor, you know that, and you're going to study hard under me for as long as I'm your tutor.."