Screwing My Students Ch. 03

Captured on Camera

Standard Disclaimer: This is a work of complete fiction. All characters are 18 or older.

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I collapsed onto the crisp hotel sheets, just lay there letting my muscles untwist themselves. Six hours on a charter bus, no matter how comfortable the seats, was too long to sit. Bennet Academy's senior volleyball team had an out-of-town qualifying game, necessitating my activation as trip chaperone. The administration, so stingy with things like new books, dipped into their funds to pay for the nice ride and a night at a decent La Quinta. Along for the ride was Coach Rita, a fifty-year-old slab of muscle happily married to an equally ripped husband for the last twenty years, and Susanna Smythe, our similarly deadlift-obsessed freshman English teacher and assistant coach. I was friendly with both women, but didn't really have enough in common with either to sustain a conversation the entire ride. Emma and I remained very discreet around others, enough so that we'd agreed not to risk sneaking off during the trip. It also meant I sat alone, which was fine. I had a book to catch up on.

We'd arrived well into the evening, got the tired girls checked in, fed them at a nearby McDonalds, and then shuffled everyone off to bed. As the only man, I had an entire room to myself. I almost regretted my agreement with Emma, but then I thought about all the peepholes, every door a cyclops ready to sound the alarm on my indiscretions. There was no way to sneak anyone in here.

I was just about to check out the shower, rinse off the day when a light rapping sounded at the door. I checked my phone. 10:30. Everyone was supposed to be in bed. Maybe there was an emergency? Maybe Emma had decided the risk was worth it. This last thought made my pulse quicken.I hopped up and went over to peer through the peephole. I couldn't help feeling disappointed. No Emma, just her friend Zoey.

What was this about?

The girl startled as if goosed when I opened the door, then glared up at me as if it were somehow my fault. Even after a day spent out of school with the team, I still wasn't used to seeing my students out of their school uniforms. Despite myself, I discreetly looked her up and down. I always forgot how short she was, the top of her blonde head barely to my shoulder. A low-cut spaghetti-strap tank emphasized her small frame, the strappy halter bra beneath cut deep enough for me to see almost the entire inside curves of her A-cup breasts. Blue exercise shorts, cut high on the hip, tried valiantly to cover her bubble butt. Her legs were smooth and pale, one dainty foot flapping her sandal nervously against the heel. Zoey had an oval face, with a slightly upturned nose. Her eyes were cornflower blue, huge over pert lips that were normally quick to smile. Now those lips were downturned into an anxious frown.

"I know what you're doing," Zoey said. Ice flooded my veins. I did my best to keep my face steady, resisting the urge to wipe suddenly sweaty palms on my shorts.

"What do you mean, Zoey?" I said, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind me. What else could she be talking about, dumbass?

"I-" she started, then looked up and down the hallway. Shook her head, continued, "Not here. Outside."

Zoey shouldered past me, the brush of her bare arm on mine oddly electric. Seeing no other choice, I followed the girl down the hall and out the hotel side exit, hoping no one was awake and watching. We went around to the rear of the building. There were fewer cars here, empty spaces illuminated by the harsh light of the street lamps. Despite the late hour, the night was warm. The highway roared in the distance. Somewhere out of sight, a woman laughed. A car door slammed. I glanced over at the team's room windows. Most of them were dark. All of the curtains were drawn. She caught my look, backed up out of their angle of view. We stood in silence for what felt like an hour, half shadowed by a wilted hydrangea. I kept my distance, still unsure what was happening, not even clear why I had agreed to follow my student out here.

"Zoey, what are we doing?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level. A greasy weight was growing in my stomach.

"I know about you and Emma," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I felt sick, ready to just collapse right there on the sidewalk. As I struggled to find words, she held up her phone to show a video. It began playing, and with each frame that passed I felt worse and worse.

The clip had been shot through two skewed slats in a depressingly familiar set of blinds. At first, everything was blurry as the camera struggled to focus. Then Zoey (I'm sure it was Zoey filming) moved the lens to the left and everything became clear. Emma and I at my desk, her on my lap, skirt hiked up and panties around one ankle. I had a hand between her legs; she in turn had undone my slacks and was working my cock. We were kissing, her free hand bracing against the desk. There was no audio, for which I was grateful. There was already no denying that it was me getting it on with the principal's daughter.

Zoey hit pause. I let out a shaky breath.

"How much longer is that video?"

She shrugged, "I stopped when you started fucking. Figured that was enough."

"Oh," I said. My life was over.

We were silent for a while. I looked everywhere but at her, my vision collapsing into a tunnel of darkness.

"Yeah, so..." she said, trailed off. Something in her tone snapped my attention to her face. She wore an odd expression, timid, but her cheeks were flushed a red deep enough to be visible in the gloom. I found myself suddenly, unaccountably angry. Why didn't she just come out with what she wanted? Why drag it out like this? Was she going to blackmail me? Blackmail me for what? Her grades were perfect. I was far from wealthy. What was this?

"Just tell me what you want," I snapped. Zoey shrank away, ducked her chin to chest. Her hands fidgeted with the phone. I had a sudden urge to snatch it from her and throw the damn thing against the concrete. With effort, I kept myself under control.

"I'd been suspicious for a while," Zoey said, "she always spent so much time with you. But then she skipped workouts twice in a row, so I followed her... and saw you two."

"What do you want, Zoey?"

Suddenly she was standing very close to me. I almost flinched away until I saw the look in her eyes. Still nervous, yes, but accompanied by a hungry gleam. "I want you to fuck me. I've wanted you to fuck me since the first day of school. And if you don't, I'll show Principal Connell."

The axis of my world shifted. I felt dizzy, whiplashed from despair to angry confusion to arousal. My cock tented against the fabric of my shorts.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I chose my next words carefully. "And if I do fuck you?"

She held her hands up in front of her like she was praying. "I'll delete it. I promise."

My mind raced. This was all so ridiculous. I couldn't believe we were even having such a discussion, let alone that I was seriously considering going along with it. But why not fuck her? Since I'd begun sleeping with Emma, I'd found myself checking out students more often, allowing my mind to wander along paths I wouldn't have considered a mere month ago. Pretty little Zoey was certainly not immune to my newly lecherous predilections, and now here she was, practically begging for my cock.

And yet.

She did threaten to blackmail me.

"I need more than that," I said, "I need collateral."

"What do you mean?"

"I get to film you while we fuck. Fair's fair."

"How is that fair?"

"Because," I smiled, "You know I'll never share it. As long as you delete yours. That's how."

Zoey pursed her lips, considering. I was starting to find her timidity attractive- something about how small she was made me want to possess her. This felt different than it had that first time with Emma. Her, I'd wanted to fuck. Zoey, I wanted to dominate. That she had attempted to blackmail me just fueled the desire to overwhelm her, have my way and leave her shaking. If she wanted to fuck, we were going to do it tonight. But where? My eyes lit upon the far side of the parking lot and what squatted there. That'll do.

The girl bit her lip, plump flesh dimpling between gleaming teeth, and finally said, "Okay. I agree."

"Good. Come here." I took her slender wrist in one hand. She gave only token resistance before allowing herself to be pulled across the parking lot.

"Oh," she said, "I thought we'd go to your room."

I didn't bother responding, just strode to the hulking dumpster at the edge of the lot. Tall pine trees left it in relative darkness. I could only hope no one chanced to glance out their window and see me take her there.

Again she hesitated as I guided her into the shadows.

"Here?" she whispered tremulously.

I loomed over Zoey. Instinctively, she shrank away, and I took the opportunity to gently push her against the dumpster. Taking out my phone, I opened the camera, considered her through the viewfinder. There was enough ambient illumination that I didn't have to turn the light on. She kept her chin down, big blue eyes barely looking at me. One arm was behind her back, holding the elbow of the other. She stood with her legs close together, still nervously tapping that foot. The hem of her tank had ridden up, exposing a smooth curve of belly and the hint of her panties. I took a couple of pictures, savoring how vulnerable she looked against the metal. There was an expectant tension to her- different than the way she'd been during our confrontation. Like she was waiting. I think she was waiting to be told what to do. I decided to test that theory.

Switching to video recording, I said,"Take your top off."

With only the slightest hesitation, Zoey rolled the tank up and over her head, let it drop to the asphalt. The halter followed, leaving her perky tits exposed to the night air. I reached down and palmed one, kneading the firm flesh and pinching the pink nub until it hardened and her breath caught.

I was right.

I brought my thumb up to her lips. She kissed it, licked the pad like it was a cock before taking it into the warmth of her mouth. Her eyes met mine through the camera, her arousal clear. I ran my fingers through her hair until I had a good handful, and then pulled her head back.

"Shorts next."

"Uh-huh,' she gasped, pushing them down. I let go so she could bend over, get them far down enough to kick off, and stepped back so I could get a good shot of her standing in nothing but a pair of white panties, arms crossed beneath her tits. I thumbed over to camera and took some pictures as well. Why waste the opportunity?

Satisfied for the moment, I pocketed the phone. Seeing the look on Zoey's face, I said, "There'll be more. Right now, just come here."

I grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around to face the dumpster. Pushed her up against it until she braced with both arms. The girl let out a little gasp of surprise as I began to run my hands up and down her body. I spent some time cupping and kneading her perfect tits, pinching her nipples until she squirmed. The skin of her midriff was smooth and soft under my palm as I slid a hand into her panties, found her bare pussy soaked. I parted her lips, lightly touched the slick node of her clit. She bent her entire body to mine, squirming in pleasure. She whimpered and ground her ass against my cock until it was all I could do not to fuck her then and there.

"Mr. Harlow, I- OH!" she sucked in a breath as my finger entered her.

Zoey shuddered and clutched at my arm as I crooked the digit, repeatedly curving from pussy to clit. I whispered into her ear, "Just think- someone could walk right by and see you being fingered by your teacher. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"N-noooo," she panted, the way her vagina squeezed my finger putting the lie to her denial.

"I think you brought me outside on purpose. You wanted a dirty fuck."

This just made her collapse further into my arms, her orgasm imminent if the way she bucked her hips against my hand was any indication. She let out another cry, this one louder. I took my finger away, slowly, tracing the entire length of her slit before grasping her hip and pushing her over at the waist, far enough that I could see her labia pressing through the damp fabric. I shucked my shorts far enough down my hips to pull out my swollen cock, free hand taking out the phone. We'd agreed that I got to film her while we fucked. Time for my student to fulfill her part of the deal. I angled the camera to get a good view of my manhood, huge against her cotton-sheathed ass, torso bent double and mussed blond head resting against the dumpster, then hooked my fingers into the waistband. Slowly, I pulled her panties down to her knees, exposing that soaking pussy to the night air. Zoey whined my name into the metal as I teased the head of my cock along her slit, letting the head just barely slip between her labia before guiding the shaft between her legs, her juices slicking the length of me.

"Ooooh god," she whimpered as I pulled back, stopping only when my glans rested just barely inside her. "Pleasepleaseplease."

"Now you ask, Zoey," I said, teasing her with the lightest of thrusts. She wriggled her hips, tried to squirm me deeper until my palm smacked across her right asscheek. The noise echoed across the parking lot. We both froze, and in that breathless moment, I swear I felt her somehow get even wetter. When no one came running to investigate, I let out a throaty chuckle.

"All you had to do was ask," I said, my hand on her narrow waist. I tightened my grip, pulling her inch-by-inch onto my cock. Her breath came in hitching gasps as I penetrated her, taking her slowly so I could savor my descent into her velvet depths. Somehow this petite girl took every inch, swallowing me deeper until her ass pressed against my hips.

"Holy shit," I muttered, continuing to thrust, "you feel incredible. I had no idea you were this slutty, Zoey. Maybe I would have done something about it sooner if I had."

Zoey moaned beneath me, her head hanging between her shoulders. "I love your cock, Mr. Harlow. I've want it for so- for soooo..." her words dissolving as I quickened the tempo, keeping the camera trained on my cock as it slid in and out of my student. A growing warmth spread from my groin and up my shaft- if I wasn't careful, I'd shoot my load inside her. Not a chance I wanted to take.

The girl groaned and shuddered with each thrust. Her cunt tightened around me as an orgasm took her, my ministrations more than she could withstand. I shoved two fingers into her mouth, her tongue immediately lapping against them.

"You have to be quiet," I said, "If you can't be quiet, I'll have to stop."

"Mmmm-hmmm," she hummed around my fingers, immediately letting out an incoherent "AH" as I thrust hard, holding her impaled against the dumpster. Harder and harder I drove into her, until she couldn't help but sob her orgasm out around my pointer and middle fingers. My own pleasure was building; much more and I'd lose myself. I pulled out before it was too late, breath not so unsteady that I failed to take pictures of her bent form, pink cunt open to the night, the dumpster large in the background.

Zoey slumped around to face me. She looked a mess. Completely nude now, her areola were swollen with arousal, pussy red and puffy. Her whole body shook, eyes hooded and pursed lips panting. One sandal had come off and her hair was tousled.

"I told you to be quiet," I said. I took more pictures, making sure to get as much of her as possible in the frame. She looked unbelievably sexy, cock-hungry, in over her head, eyes growing wider as I forced her to her knees. Taking a handful of hair, I pushed her face against the shaft. I switched to recording and said, "I want you to clean my cock, Zoey."

The girl nodded, smearing her own juices across one cheek. Her pink tongue lapped at me as I began guiding her head up and down the length of my cock. After a few passes, I brought her mouth to the tip, let her enfold it, curl her tongue around the engorged head and suck gently. Now it was my turn to moan, bursts of sensation rippling through me. I put pressure on the back of her head, watched her mouth widen to take my girth. Our eyes met, hers so big and blue, limpid and submissive. I wondered how it felt for her, to have her plans go the way they had. If she thought it would end like this: Naked, on her knees behind a dumpster, her teacher filming as he slid his cock in and out of her mouth. If she imagined him holding her head down until she gagged, saliva drooling down to spatter on her tits, only relenting when she pushed against his thighs. No, I don't think she planned for any of this.

I kept fucking her face, holding her in place with a fistful of hair. I didn't try to deepthroat her again, just rapidly worked the first couple inches between her spittle-flecked lips. One of her hands remained on my thigh, the other, I was satisfied to see, had vanished between her legs.

Soon the point of no return came, spasms of pleasure shooting through my member. I felt the cum boiling out of me, withdrew my cock from her mouth just in time for the first spurt to hit her upper lip. I let out a low moan as the next arced across her forehead; the third I made sure spattered across one breast. She accepted it all, the pace of her fingers quickening as I made the girl lick and suck at my softening cock until she'd swallowed every last dollop of cum, shuddering to her own finish with a sigh. Zoey let my flaccid member drop, her eyes returning to my face as she nuzzled in against my groin. "Good girl," I told her, and stopped recording.

***

I left Zoey there to get dressed after taking one final batch of photos. I made sure to keep her honest on her part of the deal: She unlocked her phone for me and handed it over. A quick scroll through her media library showed nothing else incriminating. After some thought, I sent myself her video before deleting it. I hadn't decided if I was going to alert Emma of its existence, but I definitely wanted to have it for later. I seemed to have abruptly acquired quite the library of amateur porn, and with it a heretofore unknown interest in making more.

As a final touch, I texted Zoey a closeup of her cum-covered face with the message, "Next time, just ask."

Giving her my number felt reckless, but so was everything else I'd done these last few months. I had a feeling that after tonight, I had nothing to worry about when it came to Zoey.