A Story Written By Queenliz…
A couple seconds later, I’m admiring the barely clad body of Professor Jane Janet.
Stepping up to her trembling form, I look down into her brown eyes. Her head tilts up to mine, and I know she wants a kiss, but not yet. Reaching around behind her, I easily unsnap her b.ra, and pull the straps from her shoulders. A moment later her panties join the rest of the clothes on the floor.
The bell rings, and Janet’s soft brown eyes grow large in terror, as the sound of students filing into her class filters through her closed door.
“Don’t move,” I order her, and she shivers again at my authority. I turn and lock her door, then look my slave in the eyes. “You’re going to sit on your desk, and give your master a show,” I inform her.
“But my class. . .” I can see her wavering, but I’m not willing to pass this up.
“A class you were willing to abandon,” I tell her unkindly. “A class you were willing to leave behind, because you wanted to deny yourself of the pleasure that I can give you.”
“But this is wrong. You’re my student. I shouldn’t take advantage of you.” I can tell she’s starting to worry again, as her arms lift to cover herself. I need to head this off quick, or I’ll lose her forever.
I laugh, making sure I’m not too loud.
“When we’re together, slave, I am your master. There is no student/teacher relationship, and I’ll brook no disobedience. Now put your arms down, and sit on your desk.”
Her eyes dart to the locked door, and she hesitates for just a moment. I can tell when she comes to a conclusion, as she murmurs, “Yes, master.”
My bazooka [ i got that word from a thread on Nl] is hurting in my Cr7 pants; I’m so hard right now. Whipping my large Bazooka out, my smile widens even more at the glossy look in Janet’s eyes.
“It occurs to me, that my slave has been too long denied her own pleasure. A denial she has brought upon herself.” I pause, just for dramatic effect. “It’s time you learn that pleasure is not a negative thing. But rather, something that needs to be fed and nurtured.” The confusion in her eyes is a beautiful thing.
“Pleasure yourself, slave.”
Comprehension dawns in Jane’s chocolate browns, and she glances at the door again, but her hands go to work. Her left hand goes to her right bre.ast, pinching and twisting the nip.ple, while her right hand drops to her wet snatch, and immediately starts rubbing her c.lit.
Sitting in one of her chairs offers me a great view of the mature woman trying hard to get off. She’s making small sounds of pleasure, as her eyes remain locked on mine. Occasionally she’ll look to the door, and I know the danger of getting caught is increasing her arousal.
The bell rings again, but Janet doesn’t even seem to notice. My hand starts to lightly stroke my thick bazooka, as I continue watching my beautiful slave.
“Moan,” I tell her, not wanting her to hold anything back. “You need to let it out, and stop trying to control this part of yourself. Enjoy it, and I promise you won’t regret it.”
The students out in her classroom are talking loudly, which is good, as it covers the deep moaning that Janet suddenly lets out.
“Does master like watching his slave play with her nip.ples?” She asks me, still looking me deep in the eyes.
“Does he like the way I make myself wetter as I play with my little pvssy? Does master want to see what happens when I slip a finger inside?”
“No,” I tell her, “I want to see what happens when you slip three fingers in.”
Without any trace of hesitation, she slips the first three fingers of her right hand into her snatch, and comes hard. Her moans can easily be heard outside, and I can hear the class suddenly go silent.
Without a second thought, I create a memory switch for the entire class and flip it. The outside chatter starts back up instantly.
No headache occurs from such a massive switch, and I smile.
“Did master enjoy watching me c.um on my fingers?” my slave inquires.
“I did,” I reply, easily.
“I enjoyed so much that my bazooka almost hurts. Come over here, and suck the c.um from my bazooka, slave.”
Almost inhumanly fast, Janet is off her desk, and her lips are wrapped around me. Between the ero.ticism of watching her get off, while her students are outside, and the whole master/slave thing, it only takes a few talented strokes, before I’m shooting down the back of her throat.
“Swallow it all,” I order her, and she greedily sucks all of my seed from me. She even goes so far as to milk my length to get every last drop.
When she can finally get no more from my wilting bazooka, she stands up, and looks me in the eyes, before unexpectedly throwing her arms around me, and pulling me into a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispers into my shirt.
“Get dressed, I tell Janet gently, leaving out the authoritative tone, “I think you have a class to teach, and continue teaching.”
To Be Continued…