Survey

Michelle was feeling just a little disgruntled. She was running late and the fact that it was her own fault was of no help whatsoever. She had been at cheer-leading practice with the rest of the team. The fact that she was the oldest member, nearly nineteen, and soon to leave bot school and the squad were no acceptable reasons for missing practice, otherwise she just might have skipped it. She did have a date, after all.

It hadn't helped when she'd rushed back to the change room after the practice only to find that her bag wasn't there. She'd taken it to the practice with her as she'd needed a few things that were in it. It was still at the practice as Michelle had forgotten it and none the other team members had spotted it lying there. She'd had to go back to the ground, try to remember just where she'd put that stupid bag, get it, and return to the change room. By which time all the other girls had used all the hot water.

A fast cold shower had not improved her mood. Neither had a broken shoelace. By the time she was dressed she was well and truly the last person to leave, making it her responsibility to check out the change room to make sure everything was reasonably tidy, which meant more delay.

Finally free to leave Michelle came charging out of the change room and ran down the hall, only to find herself lying flat on her back as she charged right into a brick wall that hadn't been there when she came down the hallway earlier.

"Ah, Michelle," murmured the brick wall. "You seem to be in a bit of a hurry."

A slightly shaken Michelle found herself looking up at a very solid Mr Ogilvie, the PE teacher. Standing with him, looking amused, was Mr Vincent, the vice-principal.

"You know, Tom," Mr Ogilvie said as he helped Michelle to stand, "Michelle is just the person to give us a hand in that research we were discussing."

"I think you're right," agreed Mr Vincent, smiling. "Why don't you step into this classroom for a few while we ask you a few questions? It'll only take a few minutes."

"Um, I really don't have time right now," Michelle protested, finding herself being ushered into the classroom adjacent to them. "I have to see someone."

"Alternatively," Mr Vincent pointed out, "I could always give you a detention for running in the halls. That's not allowed, you know."

"But I can always make time for my teachers if they need something," Michelle said quickly.

"I thought you might," came the rather dry comment.

"Um, what do you want to know?"

"The education department want us to do a survey and tell them how many of our students are sexually active," Mr Vincent told her.

"I am so not discussing that subject with you, teacher or detention notwithstanding," came the prompt retort.

"We didn't expect you to," said Mr Ogilvie with a laugh. "God, imagine how we'd feel questioning all the girls about that sort of thing. Questioning the boys would also be useless as they'd lie. There are other ways we can resolve the issue. Show Tom your hands. Ah, that's Mr Vincent to you."

Michelle found herself standing by the side of a desk with Mr Vincent standing on the other side. Puzzled, not sure where this was leading, Michelle held out her hands. Mr Vincent's hands closed over hers and drew her towards him, forcing her to lean forward over the desk.

"Wh-what are you doing?" stammered a surprised Michelle, only to find herself a lot more surprised at Mr Ogilvie's action.

Reaching down he lifted the back of her dress, tucking it into her belt. If that wasn't bad enough he then took hold of her panties and slipped them down. Michelle's mouth fell open in shock, while her eyes opened very wide.

"What are you doing?" she asked again in a voice that could best be described as a horrified screech.

"We told you," Mr Ogilvie told her. "We have to do a survey on our students. This is the simplest way for us to check"

"All you had to do was ask," gasped Michelle. "You stop that," she added as a hand started to stroke her mound.

"You already said you wouldn't discuss the subject with us," Mr Vincent reminded her. "Don't worry. This won't take long. Sam knows what he's doing."

"So do I," said Michelle hotly, "and I want him to stop."

She heard Mr Ogilvie laugh, his hand continuing its careful massage. Her sensitive parts had never seemed quite so sensitive before. How could he possibly be doing this? She squirmed around under his touch, trying to pull her hands out of Mr Vincent's firm grip. It didn't help. His hand was thoroughly exploring her pussy, rubbing and exciting it, arousing her.

"Whoah - you stop that," she gasped, feeling a couple of fingers easing their way between her lips, dipping into her secret places.

Her protests were ignored, Mr Ogilvie's fingers probing deep into her, touching all the forbidden places.

"You can chalk up a non-virgin," murmured Mr Ogilvie to Michelle's great fury.

"You don't know that," she protested. "That might have happened riding a bike."

"Riding something, anyway," came the casual comment, leaving her seething.

"Actually, the girl's got a point," Mr Vincent pointed out. "You don't know for certain that she's not a virgin."

While that comment left Michelle feeling a little vindicated it didn't help with the way she was feeling. Apparently Mr Ogilvie really knew what he was doing and she was moving restlessly under his gentle administrations, twisting about as his fingers probed and petted. She nearly bit her tongue trying not to scream when he touched too close to her clitoris.

"You've made your investigation," she managed to gasp out. "You can stop anytime now."

"No, no," Mr Ogilvie said quickly. "I will concede that you're right and the condition of your hymen is not proof of your virginity or lack thereof. However there's another way to get certain proof."

"There is?" queried Mr Vincent, with Michelle silently echoing the question.

"Sure. Watch," came the laconic comment.

Michelle found those intrusive fingers moving around, sliding out, then spreading, forcing her lips apart. Something came sliding between them, pressing into her exposed flesh, pushing deeper into her.

Michelle went dead still as she found Mr Ogilvie's cock sliding slowly home, driving slowly but surely into her depths, filling her passage, encouraging it to stretch and accept him, then pushing even deeper.

She stayed there, bent over the desk, frozen still, not able to believe that this was happening. Mr Ogilvie was a teacher. He wouldn't do this. Mr Vincent was the vice-principal, for god's sake. No way would he let things go this far.

Her denial, she found, had no effect on what was actually happening. Mr Ogilvie's erect penis was still pushing happily into her, not in a hurry, but certainly making its way deep inside her.

This is rape, she told herself, but found it hard to believe. Rape was rough, violent, painful. Wasn't it? This certainly wasn't any of those things. This was a gentle sweetness that was devouring her will-power, leaving her helpless before its insistent coaxing demand. She felt his groin pressing against her mound, his pubic hairs rubbing against her lips, lips sensitive enough at that moment to feel each and every individual hair brushing against her.

He only stayed fully inside her for a moment, a moment that seemed to last for ages, and then he was pulling out. She was almost sorry to feel him leaving. Almost. He should never have pushed himself into her in the first place.

She gave a startled little cry when he stopped and started returning. His cock came sliding back down her passage, igniting little fires within her as it came. She tried to protest, to tell him to stop, but found herself distracted by the sweetness of the feeling. Her blood was hot honey flowing through her, warming her, bemusing her, her thoughts jumbled by the way Mr Ogilvie was using her.

He was most certainly fucking her, she managed to decide, finding herself lifting her hips and pressing back against him, taking him deep and wanting him deeper. She was quite certain he should not be doing this but couldn't work out how to tell him so.

Mr Ogilvie had settled down to a nice slow rhythm, going in gently but deeply, his very gentleness confusing her. She couldn't think. How was she supposed to concentrate with a cock pushing into her all the time? She should be protesting strongly, she just knew it, but when she tried to open her mouth to speak all she could do was groan as delicious lightning swept through her groin.

Slowly it registered on her that not only was she not resisting but she was actively moving with Mr Ogilvie, pushing herself firmly against his cock as it came sliding into her. A terrible sweetness was filling her, hot honey flowing through her veins, making her lose sense of all that was right or wrong. Feeling like this could only be right, she just knew it.

Michelle was half expecting Mr Ogilvie to speed up a little, putting more energy into his action. She didn't know how to feel when he didn't, just continuing to thrust into her in the same smooth fashion, slowly but surely driving her out of her mind.

That total lack of urgency on Mr Ogilvie's part meant the Michelle was taken completely by surprise when she found herself climaxing. She'd known that it was coming. How could she have failed to know? Her whole body had been humming in expectation. But she'd expected a rush of action from Mr Ogilvie to be the trigger, not just find herself suddenly flying off the handle.

She gave a small cry when her climax swept over her, her passage clamping down on the cock that had been doing such terrible things to her. That was all it took to push Mr Ogilvie over the edge and she could feel his cock throbbing and jerking as it expended itself inside her.

Michelle found that Mr Vincent had released her hands and she was using them to prop herself up, not wanting to slump across the desk even though she felt totally spent.

She found herself being encouraged to stand, then turned around. She found she was looking at Mr Vincent, breathing hard as she did so. He was smiling at her, pressing her back against the desk. Now her hands were behind her, propping her up again.

"It's always appropriate to check another person's work," Mr Vincent told her. "Just relax a little and I'll confirm Sam's findings."

Still feeling a little out of it Michelle looked down the length of her body. Her dress was rucked up, tucked under her belt. She could see her mons, the light reflecting of the white skin. Where were her panties, she wondered. Her eyes focused on what else she could see and she found herself snapping out of her bemusement quite smartly.

Mr Vincent's trousers were down and his cock was sticking out. Sticking way out. She hadn't had a chance to see the size of Mr Ogilvie's weapon but he'd be hard pressed to match what Mr Vincent had on display. Just what was he intending to do?

"Say, what?" she gasped, seeing that erection moving confidently towards her.

"Relax," came the soothing words. "Like I said, just checking Sam's findings."

With that she found Mr Vincent wasn't moving towards her, but into her. Staring down she could see his cock pushing past her lips and she could feel it sliding down her passage, a very well lubricated passage, a passage apparently quite happy to receive this unexpected present.

Michelle found herself struggling to believe what was happening. Mr Vincent, the vice-principal, was having sex with her? It couldn't be happening. But that very large cock pushing determinedly into her was contradicting that quite nicely. It was most certainly happening because there was no way known that she'd dream up this scenario, especially with a cock that large.

She lifted her eyes to look at Mr Vincent and he was watching her with a very amused look on his face. He didn't say anything, just pressed in even harder. Eyes flicking downwards again and she was in time to see his groin press firmly against her, his cock very nicely sheathed inside her. Nicely from his point of view. She wasn't so sure from where she was standing.

Not that he stayed sheathed for long. He was already pulling back and Michelle gave a startled yelp when he turned and drove firmly home again. The slow loving from Mr Ogilvie promptly fell by the wayside as Mr Vincent started giving her his all just as fast as he could. Michelle felt a little confused at first, trying to adjust to the sudden change of pace.

She started moving with him, pushing towards him as he drove forcefully in then relaxing as he pulled out. Satisfied that she had his rhythm she moved carefully, timing it just right. He pulled back, she waited until he'd pulled back to his fullest then, before he could drive home again she pulled a little further back, watching him pop free, Mr Vincent uttering a very rude word as it happened.

A frantic adjustment by Mr Vincent and he was driving in for a new start. A few more forceful strokes and it was a case of, "Oops. Sorry," as he found himself disengaged once more.

Despite a couple more 'accidental' disengagements Michelle found that his driving cock was getting to her. She was already highly aroused from what Mr Ogilvie had done to her and it didn't really need much effort on Mr Vincent's part to build on that arousal. Despite her desire to wreak more mischief her desire for some lustful cock-work was proving the greater need. She settled down to moving in proper unison with Mr Vincent, her arousal growing with each thrust.

She was not at all surprised to find Mr Vincent increasing his speed dramatically for his end run. It was plain the man had no finesse. Not that it mattered. She was past ready for another climax, yielding to it quite happily when it came.

"You know, I really think you guys should rethink the way you're going to conduct your survey," grumbled Michelle as she tidied her clothes. "It's going to take all year to complete it the way you're going. Why not just do a questionnaire?"

"Oh, we have a questionnaire," said Mr Ogilvie. "If you care to take a seat you can fill it in. We just wanted to be able to check your answers. We'll be doing that on a random basis."

"Fine. You do that. I'll warn the boys not to be alone with you."

Michelle stalked off, smugly content at having the last word.