The Pursuit of a Teacher

I drew a shuddery breathe, shifting slightly, my battered and sensitive cunt rubbing against Mr. Hamilton's stomach and making me shiver with orgasmic aftershocks. "You're awake, Megan," Mr. Hamilton said softly and I raised my head up to find his smiling face. "Hi."

"Hi," I replied in a quiet voice.

He reached out and tugged a long and sweaty strand of my hair off my face. "Are you okay, Megan? You had me worried for a few minutes. No regrets?"

The enormity of the moment swamped over me as I brought myself up to speed. I was lying naked on top of my equally naked teacher who was three times my age -- suddenly aware that from my pleasantly aching pussy, his semen was slowly dripping out. Months and years of fantasy, yearning and planning had finally culminating in all of it becoming reality. For a second, I wondered what my response should be, but in the next, I felt myself begin to sob as I cried out, "I'm wonderful! I love you so much and you...you love me too, don't you, Mr. Hamilton?"

I hugged myself to him, my tears flowing across his face as we kissed and he stroked my arms and shoulders and back soothingly and softly replied between kisses, "Yes...maybe its wrong, but I love you, Megan...I love you more than I ever thought I could love a woman."

His words comforted me and in the sweet warmth of that fall afternoon, we cuddled and talked about our future together...me sharing my fantasies of what was to come and Mr. Hamilton calmly adding his thoughts and suggestions. Our ideas meshed together almost as perfectly as our bodies seemed to fit together.

I wanted badly to fuck my teacher one more time that wonderful Sunday, but I found myself terribly sore and unable to take his cock again. Still, I found myself riding another tidal wave of powerful orgasms as Mr. Hamilton had me ride his face and he showed me how truly talented his tongue was. I bucked and writhed on his mouth and his soothing, yet sinfully talented tongue as he kissed and licked my tender flesh, teasing and taunting my slick labia and semen coated pussy flesh and throbbing clitoris to orgasm after orgasm.

Not to be outperformed, I eventually squirmed around on his body and as Mr. Hamilton made love to me with his mouth, I began to learn to orally please him as well, coaxing his mighty cock to a third erection and lovingly sucking and licking him until finally as I saw him struggle to control and restrain his orgasm, I looked up into his eyes and said, "Mr. Hamilton, please give me your cum. I want you to spray your semen all over your little girl's face!"

I could hear the birds taking flight again from the trees around us as he cried out in complete and utter joy while his cock jerked and sprayed hot semen all over my face and I learned the pleasure of tasting his seed and feeling the steaming, life giving fluid running down my face.

And so it began...our love affair, both passionate and secret...at least at first. I wept with sadness as I watched him pull away from my house after seeing me home, daring to come to my car and kiss me goodnight both tenderly and passionately as the first day of our lives together came to an end.

Our hours apart were unbearable...those moments in class when we could not be ourselves sheer torture. We tried to be cautious and careful and through the rest of Fall semester, we tried to spend as much time together as we could, both of us shocked to discover how insatiable our need for each other was and how reckless that desire could make us. Mr. Hamilton tried to keep his hands off me in school, but more than once, our school day ended with his cock inside me and his mouth on mine, squelching my sobs of pleasure as he fucked me atop his desk or I rode his lovely cock while we sat in his chiar behind his desk..

The end of December came with two surprises. First -- Mr. Hamilton shocked everyone by submitting his resignation, having accepted a position in a small college back east in upstate New York. Second -- I took early graduation, ignoring my mother's and my counselor's entreaties to graduate with my class and walk the stage with my classmates in the spring.

I'm sure there was some gossiping when in January, we left together for New York, pausing for a weekend in a quaint West Virginia town to get married by a justice of the peace who looked a little dubious at our age differences, but who's wife sealed the deal by saying we were the cutest little couple and reminding her husband that her own mother had been a child bride of seventeen and that her father was sixty-one when she'd been born. As we drove north, it was hand in hand, both of us feeling as if we'd slipped into a fairy tale in which we would live happily ever after.

#

The autumn leaves fall all around us as we stroll up the tree lined street, little Thomas crowing happily as his small chubby hands try to catch the golden leaves, stretching his arms skyward from the stroller. His brilliant blue eyes and shock of black hair offer testimony to his parentage.

I push the stroller with one hand while I run a hand over the swollen bump of my stomach. My French Lit book peeks out from the stroller's storage pack, swaying gently as I walk us along while my equally swollen breasts, nipples more sensitive than ever, press against my tightly clinging sweater as we move along.

Suddenly, Thomas screams out in gleeful joy, "Daddy!"

I look up and grin. We are in front of Cooper Hall and Mr. Hamilton...my husband is walking towards us, having just finished speaking to two of his colleagues, both who are looking beyond him at his young wife and child with some considerable envy. There has been no small amount of gossip about Professor Hamilton and his child bride since we arrived almost three years ago, but we are both accepted here. I am in my second year of college -- a little behind schedule thanks to the arrival of our first child, but I am happy -- studying, writing my poetry and short stories while loving my son and my husband and excited about the arrival of our daughter later this winter.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hamilton," I say as my husband takes me in his arms and gives me a big kiss after bending down and hugging and kissing our son.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Hamilton," he replies, making me feel all warm and gooey between my legs. I am still amazed that even though I have always been a horny little slut, being pregnant makes me an absolute nymphomaniac. Now, halfway through my second pregnancy, I am nearly insatiable in my constant desire to have my husband's cock in me. "How's your day been?"

"Busy," I reply. "But the French Lit class was fun and Mrs. Teegarden at the day care center tells me Thomas has been bouncing off the walls all day." I squeeze Mr. Hamilton's hand and look at him coyly with my big blue eyes before adding, "I imagine he's about ready for a nap...a nice long nap."

My words and their true meaning are not wasted on my husband and he smiles and as we walk busses me on the cheek, murmuring, "Well, then, Megan...I suppose we should be taking a...nap too."

"Or something," I say, releasing his hand and without glancing down, reaching over and caressing his crotch, happy to already feel his thick monster awakening and not caring if anyone saw me acting so wantonly. We smile at each other, my beloved teacher and husband and lover and we walk happily down the leaf strewn avenue to where our house and our bed awaits and I can already envision the two of us in bed, Mr. Hamilton between my widespread thighs, making love, fucking...living the fairy tale...living happily ever after.

The End