Natalie Plays with Mr Herrick

"God, Natalie; you can't talk that way." The words came out raggedly, with effort, as if I'd had to force myself to say them. And they were right. Yet I felt very foolish for having said them, and I looked down at my shoes.

"Can't?" She sighed heavily, then gathered her strong legs fluidly underneath her and began to stand up. "It's just a statement about puberty, Mr Herrick. No big deal. Want me to tell you why I was late today?" She began to walk deliberately toward me, without any sense of hurry.

I started nervously swinging my legs off the desk, the way a fourth grader might.

"It's silly, really. My mom hadn't done the laundry last night, so I'm late because I was looking for something to wear." She ran her hands teasingly down her body. "Do I look okay, Mr Herrick? Do I look like a powerful woman?"

Shit. "Uh, you always look fine," I muttered. That brought the odd smile again.

"That's not what I asked, Mr Herrick. I asked whether I looked like a powerful woman. You know, like you said I was yesterday. If you say it again, I think it would do wonders for my self-esteem."

This, from a young lady with more confidence than any five random Presidents. "Of course, Natalie," I found myself saying. "You look very powerful. Very strong."

"Oh yes," she giggled. "That's right. I said I'd show you how strong I was, didn't I." She stopped moving toward me at last, just a foot away; my nervously swinging feet brushed at the front of her skirt. "I'm really sorry I missed our appointment yesterday during second period, by the way. I hope you weren't waiting on me." She considered. "Then again, I don't remember seeing you down at the snack line either." She winked at me. "You really shouldn't skip out on your duties, Mr Herrick. It'd be a shame if my favorite teacher got fired." It was unmistakable, the disdain in her voice. But I didn't care.

"I'll go ahead and finish my excuse," she went on, leisurely, "and then you can write me another pass. So I was shuffling through all the laundry, looking for something to put on; see, I was naked in the laundry room. Well, almost naked; I had a bra on." Smiling tightly at me, she moved her hand slowly toward her shoulder, pulled away her shirt, and twitched aside her tanktop strap; underneath was a silky bra strap in fiery red, much like her lipstick. She let me get a good look, and kept fingering her bra strap as she continued. "I wanted to wear a tanktop, but I knew I'd need to wear a shirt over it or the fucking bra would show."

"Watch your mouth." I said it automatically, as I always did when students swore.

"Ah yes." She smiled again now, a hard and pitiless smile. "I shouldn't swear in front of a teacher. Just like you shouldn't let your penis get hard in front of a student. Again." She very slowly, with firm control, allowed her eyes to dip down the front of my button-up shirt to where, sure enough, I was once again erect in my khakis. "And yet here you are." Her gaze lingered on my crotch, letting the tension build; there was nothing I could say.

Then she was looking into my eyes again, once more fingering her bra. "I wasn't just looking for a shirt to wear; I also needed some underwear. You know, to match the bra. And I knew I had a matching pair somewhere in the pile, so I bent over and started digging." She paused, letting my mind paint the exquisite picture of Natalie, naked from the waist down, bent over to find some racy panties to wear. "A thong, of course. And I did find it. In the pile. You know what that means, Mr Herrick."

My mouth was totally dry. I licked my lips. "Um, what does that mean Natalie?"

"It means," she said, whispering now as she once again leaned toward my ear, "that this strong, powerful woman is standing in front of you wearing a filthy, sweaty thong from yesterday. You remember what I was doing yesterday, Mr Herrick, don't you?"

I shook my head, completely intimidated. She'd let go of her bra strap now, only to place her long fingers with their sharp, shiny nails lightly onto my thighs. Once again, I smelled her latte. She put her lips back up to my ear. "See, the reason my underwear were so filthy yesterday is because I almost came while I was talking to you."

"Umm. Came."

She laughed and bit gently at my ear. "Yes, you stupid man. Came. Orgasmed. You know what I mean; you must have seen a few women cum in your time. I mean," she went on, moving her hands in tiny circles on my thighs, "I can see you've got a nice, big dick. No reason why a woman should need to fake it with you, from the looks of it."

A moan escaped me as her nails traced softly over my penis through my pants. This was absolutely fucking insane, screamed one corner of my mind. This girl was eighteen; where on earth had she developed this kind of power?

"No, yesterday I almost came when you told me I was more powerful than you." She closed her eyes. "Oh yes. I didn't even have to tell you to say that. You did it all on your own. And it almost met my needs." Her eyes remained closed, and she began to breathe deeply, savoring the memory. "Almost. It should go without saying that I didn't really need to pee when I left here... although I did go to the bathroom."

"Did you?"

"I did. I locked myself in a stall, sat on a toilet, and masturbated until I really did cum. And it didn't take long, I'll tell you; all I had to do while I was getting close was to remember what you said to me." She was licking now, her dry tongue sliding around the rim of my ear, teeth nipping occasionally at my neck between words. I could feel my breathing getting very ragged; she was standing directly between my legs now, pushing herself toward me, her hot breath rasping in my ear. Distantly I felt her fumble for my zipper, and she gasped a bit a she pushed it down.

"See, it's not you Mr Herrick. It's not your body, and it's certainly not your mind." Now she had the zipper down, and her greedy hands invaded my boxers. "It's the strength, the power I've got over you. Over your mind and your dick. This dick," she finished with a flat, final, dismissive tone to her voice. Without any kind of tenderness, awe, or respect, she pulled my erection out of the hole in my boxers and squeezed it. "My dick."

I was overpowered in every way. This girl seemed completely wild, but the eyes that bored into mine were in total control. In a way, that scared me more than anything else about this situation: she knew precisely what she was doing, and she did not care what I thought about it. I gave a strangled gasp, and it was as if the sound released something in her mind. She smiled; a new one, of her many smiles the coldest and most calculating. Her face was flushed, her mouth pursed, her eyes wide and dark. Quickly she glanced down, looking critically at my cock as it lay in her hand, massaging the head with clinical interest. "Nice," she said at last. "Go ahead and get naked, Mr Herrick. You've got three more classes to teach after this, and I wouldn't want you to get cum all over your clothes. Plus, I want to see what your body looks like, maybe take a few pictures. For homework."

I didn't even think about it. I hopped off the desk and brought my pelvis against her, leaving a trail of precum as my cock brushed her shirt. She smiled more widely, then stepped back to give me room as I feverishly undid my belt and let my khakis slide to the floor; the boxers gave me more trouble, hooked as they were to my hard-on, and Natalie just sat there and toyed once again with her bra strap as she watched me struggle. At last I got them free, then started on my shirt buttons; she simply watched patiently and quietly until the shirt joined my other clothes. I shivered, standing naked and rampant before this teenager, this student of mine who was now in absolute control of me.

"Hmm." Natalie was measuring every inch of me with her dark, stony eyes, paying special attention to my stiff penis. "You're a hairy one, aren't you. I didn't think I'd be into that, but I actually don't mind. Maybe we can solve that problem later; we'll see how I feel." Now she was stepping back a bit more, slowly and carefully unbuttoning her shirt before shrugging it off. She was right; her fiery scarlet bra was obvious through the tanktop, and her nipples stood out like pencil erasers.

"You know, Mr Herrick," she said, her tone bland and conversational, "a lot of the girls in this building talk about wanting to fuck you; did you know? I don't think they're really serious, but you're not an unattractive man." She carefully slid five bangles from her wrist, placing them carefully on a nearby desk. "Of course, I'm the one who's got you naked and hard, standing right in front of me." The Uggs had disappeared at some point, and now she eased her skirt and her tights down without even a slight bit of embarrassment or shame; she was disrobing as coldly as if she was getting ready for a shower. "I'm not usually quite this informal with other teachers, of course," she said quietly as the tanktop came off. "But, again, you're my favorite. And now you're my man." She once again bent from the waist, right in front of me; as she picked up her clothes, I watched her back muscles gather and flow beneath the silky bra straps. She was a soccer player, I recalled.

Quickly Natalie picked up her clothes and folded them before turning to put them on Joey's desk. Her ass, framed by the bright scarlet line of her thong, stared at me without any hint of imperfection; my cock was absolutely throbbing now. I'd never been so hard. She was taking her time over by the desk, though, fingering her shirt thoughtfully. "Well," she told me at last, looking coolly over her shoulder, "it seems you got my shirt dirty." She held out the shirt, pointing to where my precum had marked it. "A gentleman would clean that off," she pointed out.

My mind was completely empty now, entranced by the way her muscles moved beneath her perfect skin; the way her cynical face communicated my complete insignificance to her. Brainlessly I reached out, took the shirt, pushed it into my mouth; I'd never even thought of licking my own cum, but at that moment I believe I'd have done anything she wanted me to. I sucked greedily at the musky cloth, and even as I watched her nipples got even harder behind the brash silk bra; her mouth was open now, slightly, no longer smiling but now set in a deadly serious pout. I wasn't sure when I should be finished licking my own cum off her clothes, so I let my saliva get the shirt nice and wet and then I handed it back to her without a word.

"Thank you." She examined the cloth, rubbed at it before draping it carefully over the back of Joe's chair. Then she turned, facing me, her lean body within the sexy silk the most perfect I'd ever seen. She was utterly relaxed. Once again she studied me. "Holy shit," she observed dryly. "I've only seen a couple of dicks, but I've never seen one anywhere near as hard as yours. Wow." She stooped a bit and looked at it more closely. "It looks like it would explode if I even breathed on it. You must really like my body." She stood there, poised, awaiting a response, and I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding.

"Your body is absolutely amazing." At last, something useful came to mind; I knew what she wanted. "Your body is strong and powerful. You are an incredible woman. And you still have more power than I do."

She shook her head, a pained expression over her face. "Oh, you poor man; you've misunderstood. That was yesterday's orgasm; it won't work today. Still," she reflected, looking once again at my penis, "I guess it's the thought that counts. Nice try, Mr Herrick. Not that you're wrong, though; I'll tell you one thing: I'm certainly more powerful than your cock." Thoughtfully, she passed her hand across her own crotch, scratching absently at herself. "Itchy," she said to no one, and then she calmly slid her hands underneath her waistband and shimmied her thong down her legs.

"Aaah!" The grunt came out of my totally involuntarily, and Natalie's head jerked up to focus, once more, on my eyes. She didn't have to go far; my head tipped downward, I was staring at her pussy as a burning man focuses on a firehose. I hadn't really thought about what I'd expected her vagina to look like; I assumed a lot of young women trimmed themselves, but I was totally unprepared for the even, tapering Mohawk of neat hair that led like a keystone down toward the shining moisture of her slit. I caught my breath.

'What?" she asked, genuinely curious. Then she followed my gaze. "Ah. It's my pussy you're looking at." Her gaze once again flickered downward. "Typical. Your dick just got even harder, if possible. I think I'll test my hypothesis," she continued, extending one long skinny leg to grasp my puddled khakis with her toe. She dragged them across the dusty floor toward her, prodding them into a heap just in front of my toes. I gasped in shock when, without much ado, she knelt on my pants and leaned forward to within an inch or so of my dick.

For a second or two I felt I was going to faint. This was insanity. I stood naked on my free period, a half-naked senior examining a cock gone as hard as a gun barrel. She nodded to herself, then twisted backward toward her folded clothes. I didn't see what she was doing there, as her motion had put her vagina on full, glorious display when she leaned back. I couldn't look at anything else. I hadn't been wrong about the moisture. Just like that, though, she was back upright, her hands busy with her cellphone.

"Stand still please, Mr Herrick," she said, nurselike. "This won't take long." And I stood there and watched, incredulous and unable to do anything, as she took a rapid series of pictures. She shot my hard-on from every possible angle; she leaned down, prodding my legs apart, to photograph my balls; she sat way back on her heels to get a half-body shot. "Very nice," she murmured. "Almost done." I was a little surprised that she didn't pose me. "Good," she said, switching to video mode. "Now then. Remember when I said you'd explode if I breathed on it?" She smiled crookedly, started the camera, and held it at arm's length as she leaned in once more, opened her mouth wide around my impossibly tight head, and slowly blew a long, hot, moist breath out along my shaft.

I'd never felt anything like that before, and her hypothesis nearly came true: I just about came right there, as much from the sight of her mouth over my shaft as from the feeling of the warm air rustling my pubes. A faint latte smell rose up, and my penis twitched violently for the camera. "Well," she said clinically, rocking back and stopping the video to review it. "That's cool." The odd smile never left her face as I watched her watch herself, just seconds ago, tormenting me. "Very cool." She held up the phone. "Wanna see?"

Good God. It was all I could do to shake my head just slightly; I knew that seeing the video would absolutely make me cum. I somehow sensed that would be a bad idea. "No? Well, okay," she shrugged, getting back to her feet. "I'm pleased with you. You're of no real use to me if your erection can't last a little longer than that." She nodded at me in what seemed like approval, then reached behind me and patted my naked ass. "You're a good sport. I'm going to enjoy learning how to make your body do fun things." She reached casually back, twining her arms around her ribcage, and unhooked her bra. A brief twitch of her shoulders, and the bra landed in her hands; predictably, I now had something else to look at.

Her breasts were small, barely B-cups I figured; I'd always been attracted to women with large breasts, but at the moment that didn't matter at all. Her areolae were very small and very pale, but the nipples were standing out nearly half an inch from her chest. A red flush was spreading between her collarbones. She arched an eyebrow at me. "There," she said in some satisfaction. "Now we can both relax a little. Follow me, Mr Herrick." She turned, then, her young naked ass and rippling back moving without haste toward the cheap office chair behind my desk. Once she got there, she stopped and turned.

"Here's what I want, Mr Herrick, and listen up; the bell rings in about twenty minutes, and we'll need to quit having fun then. But I'm going to take a seat here in your chair, and you're going to come stand facing the whiteboard, between the chair and your desk. But don't put your butt on the desk, please; I doubt anyone ever cleans that desktop." She laughed a bit at her own joke, then reached down to fiddle with the lever that lowered the chair. Her breasts jiggled as the seat thunked down, and she adjusted it a few more times, concentrating intently, until she was once again level with my straining, sore penis.

"Good. Now then. Don't get all freaked out, but my friend Chloe read an article the other day and you need to help me with something. I was telling Chloe the article didn't make any sense, but I'm not sure, so you're going to prove it or disprove it." She looked up at me, blinked once. "This is the part where you ask me what I want you to do."

"Oh. Umm, what do you want me to do, Natalie?" I'd been feeling lightheaded for many minutes now, and I was half-convinced I was dreaming. There was no way, realistically, that any of this could be happening. She nodded.

"I'm going to see how far I can make your cum go," she explained calmly. "I'm not sure whether this will be comfortable for you, and to be honest I don't much care; just so that bitch Chloe is wrong. So I'll film this part too, if you're okay with that."

Wait a minute. "No, Natalie, no! Chloe Bishop is going to see this?"

She laughed at that, almost real laughter from near whatever genuine place she had. "God yes. But I'm smarter than that, Mr Herrick; I won't film your face at all. She'll just see me sucking an anonymous prick, then spraying cum on a wall." She considered. "I'll tell her it's Joey Witherspoon or something. Shit, Mr Herrick, give me some credit here." While she was saying this, she was busily propping her phone on my desk, twisting her body to sight her angles until the shot looked as she wanted it. I stood there like an idiot, feeling more and more awkward with every passing moment. "Got it," she announced at last, wheeling the chair back around until she was once more right in front of me. She scooted in.

"Okay," she said, "Just relax." She planted her right hand on my thigh perilously close to my dick; her left hand she moved without any embarrassment toward her vagina, where with great delicacy she spread her own lips and began to work herself lightly. "You've been very patient, which is a plus in any man, and frankly more than I expected of you. So just do what comes naturally." She smirked up at me, the pun clearly planned in advance, then I abruptly stopped listening to her as she lined herself up, opened her mouth wide, and attacked me.

Stunned, I nearly fell over; my hands shot back to grip hard at the edge of the desktop. Natalie did not let up, calmly and deliberately giving me the finest and most overwhelming blowjob I'd ever encountered.

Good God! She must have been sucking mens' dicks for years for her to be this good. I was not exactly well-practiced in receiving head; I'd been married for over a decade at that point, so I was lucky to get any kind of sex at all. Natalie moved her lips steadily down my shaft, laving the head with her tongue as she went; she wasted no time moving her fingernails to my balls, my perineum, flitting across my erogenous zones.

Somehow, incredibly, I managed to survive the first onslaught. I wasn't exactly trying to make this last; I was very conscious that this class period would be over before too terribly long, and that given the intense stimulation of the last half hour there was no way I was going to make this a marathon anyway. But I did have my pride, and a tiny fragment of my brain was still able to want to impress this girl.