This story is based on an event that happened during my sophomore year of high school, as a 16 year old. I might be adding more stories to this collection, in which case I plan on calling them, Memoirs of a Society Schoolgirl. Post comments if you like it, if you have any suggestions, or if you didn't like it, just keep it constructive! Well, there's really nothing more to say, so...enjoy:)
Walking into Mr. Talbot’s room, I hitched my backpack farther up on my shoulders, before reaching and tugging my black-and-orange plaid mini-skirt further down over my thighs. I surveyed the room, and, seeing no one, plopped down into the desk closest to the teacher’s and pulled my notebook and math book from my backpack. Pulling a pencil from my messy up-do, I set to work on solving algebraic equations, speeding through them at a break-neck pace, trying to get done as soon as possible, because my early release day could be better spent doing something actually fun.
“Three x squared, minus four, plus ninety-eight, equals…” I whispered to myself, madly scribbling down the proofs to my work, hoping to get finished without ever having to listen to Mr. Talbot’s boring, droning voice.
“Hello, Ms. Thomas,” I heard Mr. Talbot’s voice call from across the room as he slammed then locked the door, “I trust you’ve gotten plenty of your work done in my absence, hmm?”
Wait a minute! Locked the door? Mr. Talbot wouldn’t lock the- “Hi, Mr. Shapiro.” I said, glancing up from my work shyly, tucking a few errant strands of dark brown hair behind my ears and moistening my lips.
“How are you today?” He asked, turning to face me. Every time I saw Mr. Shapiro, I couldn’t help but be bowled over by how handsome he was. Black hair cut in a sensible, history teacher style, hazel eyes with just the right amount of brown flecks in them, a strong, almost Greco-Roman nose, and pale pink, perfectly kissable lips. And then…there was his body. He was all muscled up the way no history teacher should be, from his thighs, which happened to be covered by black slacks, to his abs, equally covered by a white button-up shirt, to his- oh crap! He caught me staring. Did he ask me a question or did I say something..? Oh, right!
“Um…yes.” I answered, blinking my large brown eyes, exiting my reverie.
He chuckled, a dark, rich sound, as he strode over to my desk. He sank to his knees beside me, and leaned over to whisper, “I didn’t ask you a yes or no question, Stacie.”
“Oh oh.” I said, feeling a bit of a blush creeping up my neck.
“But, it’s quite alright, Stacie, because I get distracted when I see you too.” He reached up and stroked the side of my face, gently, as he sucked my earlobe between his teeth. I shivered and inhaled his pure, masculine scent.
“You do?” I asked stupidly, turning my face to his.
“I do.” he answered, bringing his other hand up to cup my face as he leaned forward even more to push his lips into mine. Our lips met, and he soon parted his, seeking entry into mine. I closed my eyes as I felt his tongue enter my mouth, caressing and cajoling my own to join in the fun. He gently sucked my tongue between his lips, playfully nipping at the tip of it, before pulling away from me. I’m sure my face fell, because he crushed another quick kiss to my lips before yanking me up out of my seat.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, incredulously, staring down at my tiny, 5’2 frame. I glanced down at my black Converses with orange marker scribblings, which led to knee-high socks, which, after a few inches of silky, toned thigh, met the lace trim of my black-and-orange plaid mini-skirt, which was held up by a pair of black suspenders, which were hooked onto my orange t-shirt, which was embossed with black lettering that clearly stated, “Bad Girl”.
“Clothes?” I offered. He shook his head, smirking.
“Stacie, I figured that out all on my own.” He grabbed my wrist and led me to Mr. Talbot’s big oak desk, then picked me up and pushed me back onto it. I crawled backwards, grinning as he grabbed a yard stick from the board and faced me, smacking his hand with it every few seconds.
“You’ve been a very, very bad girl, Stacie, coming in here dressed like that when I’m the only one who gets to look at you that way. You know you’ve been bad, don’t you?”
I nodded mutely, biting on my lower lip to keep my smile down to a minimum. My knees were pulled together with my feet spread farther apart as I lay back on the desk, unable to take him seriously.
“Oh, so you think that’s funny?” he growled, lunging for my ankles and dragging me back towards him, unlacing my sneakers as he pulled. When he had my legs parted around his waist, my ass barely on the sturdy desk, I propped myself up on my elbows just in time to catch a ruthless kiss.
“You know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?” he murmured against my lips. I shook my head in the negative, giving him a little Eskimo kiss in the process. He laughed, then softly sunk his teeth into my lower lip and said, "They get punished."
He grabbed my thighs and slid my body around so that he was able to sit in the big leather chair while I still lay on the desk, giving him a perfect view of my pantie-less pussy as I kicked my sneakers onto the floor below. He growled again, and pulled me onto his lap, face down, ass up. I playfully wriggled, trying to get my suspenders off, as he hiked my skirt up and began gently caressing my round ass, telling me how much he wanted to bury himself deep inside my mouth, how much he wanted to see me sucking him off. Then he smacked my ass, just once, hard enough to make me buck up. I cried out, half from surprise, half from pleasure. He then took his free hand and used it to hold my torso down as he continued spanking me. After about five minutes of receiving gentle smacks to my reddened ass, he tilted me back up, repositioning my body so that I was straddling both his lap and the arms of Mr. Talbot’s chair.
By then I’d worked my suspenders off, and was working on my shirt when he started kissing my neck, nibbling and sucking on that certain spot that drives me absolutely wild, within moments, he was working his way down to lick my breasts through my shirt, while using one of his hands to caress my soft abs and work the shirt up. With his other hand, he was rubbing that little bundle of nerves and soaking his fingers in my juices, before sinking two fingers into me, his fingers curling up and stroking my G-spot. As I arched my back, moaning in pure pleasure, he finally got the wretched shirt over my head, revealing my 36C’s clad in a lacy purple push up bra. He continued his ministrations, tugging at my dark nipples with his teeth through the fabric, sending chills down my spine.
He then unhooked my bra, with no little difficulty, having to use both hands. I kissed Mr. Shapiro once, then slid off of his lap, onto the floor under the desk, and, maintaining eye contact, slowly and deliberately unzipped his slacks.
Beneath them, he was wearing a pair of navy blue boxer briefs, and, on a snap decision, I decided to lick at his cock through them, trailing my tongue around the shaft and his balls, barely teasing him with my tongue. Groaning, he slid them down, then buried his long fingers in my hair, forcing my mouth down onto the thick, veiny shaft of his cock. I moaned a little, using one hand to brace it, while lapping at the underside with the broad side of my tongue. After about half a minute, I moved up to the mushroom shaped head of his cock and popped it in with a plop. I swirled my tongue around the rim of the head, applying gentle pressure, while jacking him with my right hand. My left hand was rubbing up and down his thigh, though sometimes stopping on their endless journey to cup his soft, downy hair covered balls.
His moans filled the room for a few minutes until he couldn’t take it anymore, snatching me off back up, off of the floor, and bringing his lips to mine in a passionate, aggressive kiss. Then, he bent me over the desk, standing up as he pushed my skirt up even higher on my waist. He smacked my ass a few more times, asking if I was ready to get fucked yet, while using his other hand to rub his, now condom covered, cock along my pussy lips. Finally, as I was approaching the point of begging him to fuck me, he roughly pushed me down onto the desk so that I was laying flat, with my head turned at an angle, and shoved his cock into me, eliciting a sharp moan as I felt his thick rod filling me.
He repeatedly stabbed himself into me, my toes coming off of the floor with each powerful ram. With his cock bumping against my spot, I was squealing and moaning, backing my ass up into him, matching him thrust for thrust. Eventually, the intense pleasure evened out and, in order to get closer to my orgasm, I flipped over onto my back and placed you legs over his shoulders, pressing my body closer to his. And while the other position may have been more aesthetically pleasing, the new one caused stars to jump into my eyes. It was also much more intimate, and he bent down and kissed me, tenderly, while still maintaining that steady, break neck pace.
With his cock brushing my G-spot over and over, it wasn’t long before I could feel my orgasm coming back, and when he reached down and began flicking my clit, I exploded, screaming wordlessly at the ceiling, clamping down upon his cock, my hands grabbing at his shirt, popping open a few of the pearly buttons. Just as I was climbing down from my high, he pulled out, whipping off his condom and jerked rapidly over my heaving chest. With a final grunt, he came, ropes landing on my tummy, my breasts, and even onto my face and glasses. I giggled, taking them off, and putting them on the side of the big desk. Just as I was about to roll off of the desk, he pushed me back gently, and, ever so slowly, licked a trail of cum off of my belly, and with a naughty gleam in his eyes, pulled me back up to kiss me. I smiled and obediently parted my lips as his tongue once again entered my mouth. I could taste the combined us-ness, and I reached up and grabbed his face anchoring his to mine.
Almost immediately, he pulled back, flipping me back over onto my stomach and delivering a few more stinging smacks for effect. As I climbed back off the desk, he pulled me back to him, kissed me roughly, then, kneading my ass through my, once more pulled down, skirt, added, “I’m sure you’ll be better next time, won’t you, Ms. Thomas?” All I could do was nod as I wiped the remainder of the cum from the desk, my face and chest off with the spare jacket that I kept in my backpack. I collected my clothes off of the floor and had just tucked my glasses into my bag when he zipped up his trousers, dressed as though nothing aside from a few button poppings had occurred, while I’m sure that I looked like a well-fucked school girl, with my short dark hair spiked up everywhere, my socks at different lengths, and a suspender sliding down my shoulder with a questionable stain blooming at the very top of my skirt.
Flushed, I collected my things and pushed my arms through the holes of my bag, looking anywhere else but at Mr. Shapiro. As I walked to the door, I realized that he was holding it open for me and expecting some type of parting words.
“Um..” I opened my mouth to say some type of inane goodbye, a blush once again creeping up my cheeks, when he ducked down and kissed me, his hands drifting over my petite, but curvaceous frame one last time.
“Goodbye, Stacie,” He whispered, rubbing his nose against mine, “I’ll see you tomorrow night for academic team practice.”
“Bye, Mr. Shapiro.” I smiled, breaking away and smoothing my hair in the back. I exited the room, with a vague feeling of forgetfulness when I turned around and saw a scrap of purple lace hanging out of his pocket as he whistled down the hallway. I shrugged, smirking to myself. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t going to get it back.