Prison School Ch. 01

I had my hips thrust forward, pressing my rock-hard, mammoth cock roughly against her generous ass. It wasn't enough. The fantasy in my head continued, but on the paper I was still filling in colors and smoothing lines. In my mind, I let go of her neck and bent to force her skirt up above her hips with my right hand. I thought about what kind of panties I might find under there. Would she wear a thong, letting those fleshy ass cheeks free, or would she wear granny panties, thin cotton covering every inch of her meat? I decided on bikinis, red with black stripes. She seemed to like black, so I let her have her black.

It didn't matter much what they looked like because my next move was to rip them off. I forced her forward until her sweet little tits were pressed against the desk, and I backed away just enough from her ass to rip the panties from it, dropping them to the floor. Then I forced her legs apart, nudging between them with my right knee. With my left arm, I pushed under her cute little jacket, dug under her silky shirt underneath, found her bra and pushed beneath the fabric to grab a nice big hand full of her right tit, which was just the right size to fit in my palm. I squeezed as I rubbed my erection against her ass cheeks.

I wasn't wearing my prison garb. I had on jeans and a tight muscle shirt, showing off my tattoos. The material of my jeans made her ass cheeks red, and it gave me an idea. I let go of her boob and used my right palm to smack her ass. I watched it jiggle, and she moaned in pain. I slapped it again and laughed.

Finally she'd had enough. "Please stop," she begged me. "Please just let me go."

"You want this, bitch," I spit at her. "You know you want me."

She moaned, and I wasn't sure if it was from pleasure or from fright. It didn't matter. I unbuttoned and unzipped, and I freed my huge cock. (I'm not exaggerating. It's like a fucking donkey. Ask any woman whose been impaled on it.)

I let it's hardened length slap against her ass, and then I spread her legs wider, pushing them apart with my knee again. "Spread 'em, slut," I snarled at her.

"Yes, Sir." She whimpered when she said it, but she'd called me "Sir." My cock got even harder. In bed while I played this out in my mind, I finally stopped drawing. I put the stuff back in my locker, and I finished my fantasy, fucking Ms. Rogers bent over the desk.

"Did you call me "Sir?" I like it, slut. Tell me you're my whore, and call me that again." I jerked her arm, pulling her back toward me. She grasped for the desk with her right hand, trying to steady herself.

"I won't let you fall, bitch. Now say it." I grabbed her right arm too and held both of her small wrists securely with my left hand.

"Uhh..." she stammered. "I.... I'm your whore..." She sounded like she was trying to remember lines to recite for an elementary school play.

"Say it like you MEAN it." I was being mean now, just playing with her because she was at my mercy.

"I'm your whore," she spouted with more determination.

"Is that all?" I asked.

"I'm your whore, Sir," she spat the last word like she was going to gag and choke on it.

I wondered if she was wet. I reached between her thighs with my right hand, spread her fat little pussy lips apart with my thick fingers, pressed two fingers between them. She was fucking soaking. Ahhhh.... just right.

I shoved my cock into my cum sock as I shoved it into her wet pussy. She squealed in pain. She couldn't help it. My giant shaft split her in two, and she pushed back against it, as if seeking more of me would ease the pain.

"'You like that, don't you, bitch? You love daddy's big, thick cock spreading that pussy wide open. Tell me how much you love it. Call my daddy."

She coughed as I grabbed her bun and pulled her head back. "Say it...." I wasn't gruff this time. I wanted to hear her say it. I hoped she would.

She hesitated for a second and then said softly, "Daddy, I love your big, thick cock in my little, tight, wet pussy. You fill me up so good. You're splitting me wide open. Oh, I love it so much, daddy."

So she liked being dominated. Hmm. Wow. Even if I was only imagining, that was hot. As I filled the sock with my spunk and put it away, wiping everything clean, I wondered if the real Ms. Rogers was anything like the one I'd just filled with my sperm.