Teacher Pupil

He heard a knock at the door. Getting up from his selection of teaching materials and books set at the table, he walked to the other side of the modest flat to open it. It was her. She exhaled sharply as he opened the door for her, and smiled nervously at the man, greeting him with a 'good afternoon'.

Friendly, he smiled back, welcomed her inside and asked if she needed any refreshment. She declined, asking only if there was somewhere she could hang her coat. He took it off her and set it over the chair he had set for her at the table. He asked her to sit, looking her up and down as she moved to the other end of the flat. She looked different, he thought. She had makeup on. Not much, but enough to draw attention to the eyes and lips. Her eyes were wider, lashes fuller, with lips more vibrant and plumper than he recalled. Though it caught his eye, he put it to the back of his mind and focused on the aim of the afternoon. She was falling behind on work, and her progress had truly slowed. She needed some special attention and encouragement to get her back up to speed.

Sat down now, her eyes darted around the flat. While altogether lovely and sufficiently modern, she noticed how, cosy, it felt. How the place itself seemed to want nothing but to push them closer together. At the back of the room, she spied a closed door. She asked if that was the bathroom, with him responding 'yes, though it's an en-suite, so I'm afraid you'll have to go through the bedroom. Don't worry, I made sure to pick everything off the floor'. They both smiled at his awkward attempt at an icebreaker, and they started the teaching session in proper.

He put her at ease by informing her that while going to a teacher's home was always awkward, and one to one even more so, that this was still a regular lesson, only meant to catch her up. He let her know she can stay as long or as she likes, adding that he didn't have anything on for the rest of the day, so there was no rush in grasping the material. She did relax after that, though couldn't help catching herself staring at him as the lesson went on. He looked good, better than usual now she was closer to him. He could have been in a dressing gown and slippers, but he made the effort to ensure he matched his 'teacher' outfit even on the weekend. Warm, deep coloured jumpers and his ever present cardigan. Like any other teacher really, but she liked the look. It made her feel comforted. It felt to her the kind of clothes a man wore who felt he had no need to be anyone but himself. An understated confidence that she found quite reassuring. Not the type to shout and bicker and make her feel bad for not getting it all right away. He even seemed to smell good, now that she was close enough to notice. The table was a small one, and they huddled together, taking one side of the square table each to sit and work through the material. At the writing task, he lost himself for a moment, his mind shifting focus from the work and onto her. Her head was low to the table as she wrote, and he became fascinated in the profile of her face and the line of her neck. Her hair was up in a curly ponytail and he noticed she had earrings in. She never had earrings in.

She caught him looking, flashing her wide hazel eyes at him. His eyes darted back down to her writing task, and she was sure she could almost see him blush. She didn't show it then, but she was smiling inside. He was noticing her. She kept to her writing task, stomach slowly filling with excitement at the gaze he gave her. She began to feel warm at her neckline and used it as an excuse to remove her jumper, revealing a light-coloured shirt underneath, tucked into the short tartan skirt she had on. She undid the top button and rolled the sleeves up over the elbow. Her modest cleavage was on show for him to see, and from an irresistible desire to gaze further, he realised her breasts were supple and round enough that she need not wear a bra. She could see him looking. Knew that she was, finally, really being desired. She was happily drowning in the visual attention given to her. Her heart was racing, and she did still feel so anxious, but that was quickly turning into excitement and a wanting to be even bolder in her actions.

He reigned himself in and exhaled quickly, deciding now was time for a break. He was impressed by the progress they made and her renewed determination for the subject. She asked again where the bathroom was, smiled, and placed a soft hand on his upper arm as she got up. Her mind was screaming for him to notice her more, and contemplated for a moment to sit on his lap and wrap herself around him there and then, but the anxiety won out, and she walked through the bedroom to the toilet. Yes, he was looking, but men look. He was her teacher, he wouldn't think to take advantage of that. It was another reason why she liked him.

He on the other hand, was trying to keep his composure. Students had made advances before which he had brushed off, but he had to admit she was making it more difficult for him. He tried again to push it out of the back of his mind. Save it all for his upcoming lonely evening where he could let his imagination run wild with her. Still, she was an adult. She could do what she wanted, including spending an afternoon frustrating her teacher. The fact she had put this effort in for him though, the makeup and clothes, hadn't left him. He'd seen this before. 'Modest', withdrawn girls abruptly and sometimes awkwardly coming out of their shells once their attractions found someone right for them.

As she walked the handful of steps into the bedroom and off to the bathroom she stopped, noticing an undone lace on her light blue brogues. She bent over to tie it, and immediately gasped under her breath, realising that she had done so in full view of him.

Still sat at the table, he saw her walk off to the bathroom, stop and bend down to tie her laces, revealing what she had hidden under her skirt. What he thought were tights were a pair of thigh high socks, almost coming up to the hip, and an absence of underwear. The familiar, pink, peach shape between her dark socks jumped out at him. Teasing him, and practically begging to be touched. It was free of any hair, the skin looking supple and somewhat plump.

She quickly stood upright, and briskly walked into the bathroom, promptly locking the door. Leaning on the rim of the sink, she felt her heart racing in her chest and wondered what she would say or do after coming out. She knew he saw her, and her mind couldn't decide to be embarrassed for being so careless, or to be exhilarated at how aroused the thought of showing off like that got her. She sorted her skirt, noticing a slightly sticky, damp patch around the clothes closest to her vulva. In the end, her arousal won out, and she decided she wouldn't leave without being noticed more by him. She wanted nothing more than to be noticed by someone. To be desired, to be lusted after. She was sick of being so fucking modest. She wanted to be fucked. Fucked by him.

She opened the door, and found him on the other side, waiting in the bedroom. She looked up at him, and then quickly down toward an obvious bulge in his trousers. Her gaze followed back up his body and to his eyes. He could see the desire in them. The desire for her, the one she had craved for so long. The one that kept her up at night touching herself into the early hours. He bit his lip, said nothing, and moved himself toward her. His right hand held her cheek, while the left wrapped around and held onto her waist. He kissed her, deep yet soft, as she put her arms around his broad shoulders and neck. It was electric, each motion of his on her rushing over her body and down to between her legs. She moaned in-between locked lips, his breathing becoming deeper and lustful.

She moved her hands from his neck and down his back, resting on his waist. She pulled him closer, wanting to feel him, feel the assertive force of another body pressed against her. His obvious bulge now pushed up against her lower hill, and she gripped him tighter. Even through clothes, she could feel the firmness and warmth of the thing, and her desire fixated on it, craving it inside her in any way. Front, back, in her mouth while on her knees, she didn't care. It was a primal feeling, a lust to be filled.

Their arms ran across each other's bodies. Keen to properly feel her soft hands run across naked skin, he promptly removed the top half of his clothes. She dug her nails into his back, causing the hairs at the bottom of his neck to stand. His erect penis felt tight in underwear and trousers, and he had begun an almost involuntary thrusting at the front of her skirt. He moved his mouth away from hers, and travelled to her neck, causing her to gasp and moan pointedly. He moved her hands into her shirt, cupping a breast and massaging it gently. The shirt was light enough that her dark erect nipples were clearly visible through it, though he still undid enough buttons to expose them, framed by thin fabric of the shirt.

She found the warmth of his body against hers irresistible, how the deep sensations she felt radiate through her body as he played with her breasts. She could feel the damp patch at her inner thighs had grown, and she directed his hand down and underneath her skirt. His hands felt her. Soft, smooth inner thighs, the warm and wet region between them. Palm facing her, his thumb began caressing her almost throbbing clitoris, while his finger slid effortlessly inside her. Though still standing, she felt her toes curl. Her eyes closed and she arched her neck back, moaning at the pleasure and attention given to her.

Breathing in sharply, she fumbled with the buttons and zip of his trousers. She wanted more than just fingers inside her. Trousers off, and underwear aggressively pulled to the floor, she saw his erect penis. A thick, almost pulsating trunk that filled her with erotic excitement. Eyes widened, she gripped it with one hand, slowly pumping it as she heard her partner vocalise in delight. Her index finger moved up to the tip, noticing the warm, pre-cum smudge on her fingertip. She was tempted to lick it. She pushed back against him, and toward the bed. Him, now completely naked, was led to a seating position by her as she dropped to her knees. She removed her mostly unbuttoned shirt, but kept the socks and skirt on for now, as she gripped his penis and brushed it across her cheeks. Licking it from base to tip, she opened her mouth to the head of his penis. Descending herself down his shaft, her mouth quickly became filled with him. He gripped the sheets with one hand, and with the other guided her movements by grasping the back of her head, gripping her hair slightly.

As arousing as it was to be the one in charge of his pleasure, and to hear the noises he made in response to her, she wanted more. She stood herself up, and removed her skirt, swaying her hips for him as it slid to the floor. He grabbed her arm, leading her onto the bed and into each-other's arms. She was now bellow him, and he ran his hands down her legs, removing the thigh high socks so he could caress her more fully. He lifted her onto a pillow and lowered his head between thighs that were now up and arched over his shoulders. Still warm and wetter than before, he brought his mouth around her labia as his tongue ran circles around her clitoris. she yelped in pleasure, and reflexively moved both hands down to pull on his hair. In all the ways to show how desired she was, to shower her with attention and physical praise, this one spoke to her the loudest. Her lungs filled with air as she breathed in deep and full, her moaning almost an ecstatic scream. The pleasure kept building, moving out from her clitoris and into her thighs that were now pressed around him. She grasped her own breasts, toying with her own pert nipples as he devoured her and drank her in. As she neared the edge, she became louder, only words being 'fuck me!', occasionally interlaced between the primal vocalisations of sexual joy. She felt her body leap off the edge and soar upwards toward a new plane of sexual sensation. Her whole body electric, every part of her now an erogenous zone, she pulled his head upwards toward her, signalling she could no longer resist what she wanted most of all.

He wiped what remained of her off his face, and moved himself so they met eye to eye, him atop of her. He ran his hands across her arms as he entered her, sending sparks all over her body as she continued to fly further up into higher and higher clouds of pleasure. Despite her arousal, and the ease at which he entered her, she noticed the fullness of his penis pressing firmly against her once inside. She felt her own self grip it as he began sliding in and out, slowly at first, though quickly gaining both speed and intensity. He began to moan, deeply, as his penis became wrapped in the warmth and tightness of her vagina. That only pushed her arousal further up as she lay on her back, legs high in the air. He leaned himself upright and grabbed hold of her hips, lifting her off the bed. The feeling of being handled like that, as he vigorously moved himself deep inside her, drew her closer to another pleasure edge. One arm keeping her aloft, his hand came back to her clitoris, index finger running around it, fully erect and out of its hood. She felt each thrust, and how it moved her body. Her upended legs swaying with the momentum of it all, and her breasts rhythmically jiggling in her peripheral vision, feeling the sensation of their movement right up to the nipple. The attention paid to her clitoris took things further, losing herself as her cries of enjoyment became ever louder. He was nearing his own edge of pleasure too, immersed in both the sensations of it all and the taboo of it. He had given in. Finally, he was fucking one of his own students. It felt good, no previous sex compared to it.

He became more vocal, and she could feel an added firmness and deepness to the strokes he made inside her. He was going to finish, inside him. She wanted it desperately, wanted her body to receive the conclusion of his lust for her. She rocked her hips best she could in time with him and found herself nearing the apex of her own pleasure. A deep feeling was building up inside her, and her muscles inside had tightened around his penis, gripping it firmly. Though lost in her own ecstasy, she still managed to let out a lustful 'finish inside me' as she reached orgasm. Her back arched, and she spread her arms over the bed, twisting the sheets in her hands. Eyes shut and mouth agape, she felt the rhythmic waves of pleasure roll over her again and again. For him, seeing the display, it proved too much to resist, and he erupted inside her, coating her vagina in his own white sticky self. He was hunched atop her as he came, arms under her shoulders and face buried into her neck. The two breathed heavily, almost hearing one another's beating hearts.

A sweaty sticky mess in the middle of the bed, the two slowly began to separate. He remained inside her for a short moment though, basking in the glow that the two shared after acting on their base desires. He lifted his face to see hers, and they shared a small smile. He removed himself from her, and they held each other for a short while.

After a moment of silence between the two, he asked her 'same time tomorrow?'