"You got an after school detention?" Shea laughed, covering her mouth. "That's rough."
"For one fucking cigarette," Anais said, her brows knitted. "As if Mr Hudson isn't constantly sneaking out to his shitty peugot for a lunchtime fag."
"Oh, boo hoo. Suck it up, buttercup. I told you you were stupid for smoking at school."
"You smoke at school too!"
"Yeah, well I don't get caught, idiot."
Anais huffed and crossed her arms. She was supposed to be going out tonight. Meeting up with the guy she'd been chatting to. And now she was supposed to stay behind a whole hour, with her weird old teacher.
"Stop being so pouty," Shea said, nudging her. "I'm sure you can get out of it."
Anais made a face. "What do you mean?"
"Use a bit of your pretty privilege. Touch your elbows together, or jump up and down. Drop a pencil and bend over in front of him or something. I don't know."
Anais stared at her. "Don't be disgusting. Mr Hudson is like, forty. And gross."
Shea laughed. "Exactly. He'll probably appreciate the attention. He's always staring at the girls, it's probably just what he's been waiting for."
Anais dismissed the idea. She was the prettiest girl at school, everyone knew that. A creep like Mr Hudson didn't deserve her flirtation.
Nevertheless, when the end of day rolled around, and all of her friends went off home to enjoy themselves, she started to think about it more seriously. She got a text from her boy asking what time she could meet, making her want to stomp her feet. It was wickedly unfair. So, determined to make it home quicker, she stopped off at the bathroom before going to his classroom.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Plump, pink lips; smooth honey coloured skin, and big brown doe eyes, with long lashes. Anais took her long dark hair down and gave it a shake, and then undid the top button of her blouse, but that didn't show much, so she did another, and then another. Now, the very top of her cleavage could just about be seen. She smiled at herself. She'd always been well-developed, for her age. She hiked her skirt up a little too, for good measure. An inch more of thigh for him to ogle couldn't hurt, right? A quick top up of her lip gloss and she was ready.
She made her way to his classroom and knocked on the door. When he answered, she looked up at him, her eyes deliberately innocent and vacant, and her mouth hanging slightly open. Guys went crazy when she looked at them like that.
"I'm here for my detention," she said.
Mr Hudson's eyes flicked down to the open buttons of her blouse momentarily, then to her lips, and back down to her chest again, where they lingered. You really are a creep. This was going to be easier than she thought.
"Come in," he grunted, and she went inside and found a seat close to his desk. He needed to see her properly if this was going to work.
Once she was settled, he went and sat at his desk. He was a tall man, partly muscled and party pudgy, with hairy forearms and a brown beard. Anais tended to think of him as a depressing picture of male middle age, not balding yet but probably just about to, teaching history at this shitty school, smelling of coffee and existing only to bore his students to death. She watched him at his desk, trying to come up with some compliment to flatter him, but she couldn't think of anything. It wasn't her style, anyway. Anais received compliments, she didn't give them.
She waited for him to say anything, give her an instruction, but all he did was stare at some stack of papers in front of him. Come on, think. How could she get out of here?
Finally he turned to her, his eyes dipping down to her chest again. "You can uh, do some lines."
He stood up and dropped a few pieces of paper on her desk, along with a pen. Anais stared at them, refraining from getting pissy with him.
"What should I write?"
He pretended to think. "How about 'I will follow the school rules'?"
She huffed quietly, trying to hide her annoyance. "Fine."
She started with a few lines, propping her head on one hand, writing the words sloppily. She could feel his eyes on her again, and glanced up at him, making those same eyes she did so well. She knew he was ogling her. But how could she push it further? She'd need to push him more if she was going to ask to leave early. It wasn't like she could pop another button. Then, it came to her. He was at perfect eye level to see under the desk.
Feeling daring, she slowly spread her legs a little wider, making it look like she was just trying to sit more comfortably. She could feel her skirt get pushed further up her thighs, but she wasn't sure if it had done anything. She chanced a glance up at Mr Hudson, and found his eyes staring at her crotch beneath the desk, his jaw hard. Subtly, she pushed her legs a little bit wider, hiding her smile. She liked this, the power of it. Making her stupid old teacher drool over a glimpse of her panties. It was pathetic, really. Even if it did feel a little bit dirty, she imagined telling Shea how he fell right for it and she walked out of there after no time at all. They'd have a good laugh at the old perverts expense.
"Mr Hudson," she said, feeling confident now. "How long do I have to stay in detention for?"
He looked at her, his eyes snapping upwards. "An hour, as you know."
"Right," she said, and she curled a strand of hair around her finger. "It's just, I was wondering. Would I be able to leave a little sooner? I have a study session I'm supposed to go to tonight. Super boring, I know, but I'm trying to get my grades up."
To Anais' great disappointment, he didn't seem flustered, like boys she flirted with normally were. He studied her for a moment, and then his mouth curled upwards into a sort-of smile. "No. I can't allow that."
So close. Just push it a little further. "Not even, just this once? I wouldn't tell anyone, I promise." She pushed her legs wider still. Well, there was nothing subtle about it now. Her skirt had ridden up all the way, and the air felt cold on her underwear, exposed.
His eyes went downwards, raking over her and boring under the desk. Anais' heart beat a little faster. He had a funny look in his eyes, a darkness, and his strange little smile. He stood up, and made his way towards her, slowly.
"I wonder what's making you so desperate to leave. It's not studying, that's for sure. You've never touched a textbook in my class. No, not pretty little Anais. You just bat your eyelashes and get one of the boys to give you the answers."
He was standing next to her, at the desk. Her face flushed with heat, embarrassed.
"And now you think your... 'charms'... will work on me. How desperate are you?"
Anger flared in Anais. He'd let her practically flash him, knowing he wouldn't give her what she wanted.
"Not as desperate as you. You've been perving on me since the second I came in here," she said, venomous.
"Well, I hate to be the one to let you know, but if you spread your legs at a man with a working cock, he's going to look."
She looked up at him, shocked by his words. "You can't say that sort of shit to me," she said.
"Don't be coy. You want me to say that sort of 'shit' to you. Should I give you what you're really asking for?"
His hand came slowly down, resting on her shoulder briefly, and then his fingers moved to her blouse, and with one deft movement, he'd undone the next button, and another, and then another. Anais sat, frozen, her heart beating in her chest, her black bra exposed to the classroom.
"Mhm," Mr Hudson said, his hand coming back to her shoulder, giving it a squeeze, his eyes devouring her chest. "I gotta say, I enjoyed watching you try to charm me. Your body really is something, you know that? You don't need a push up bra to make these look good, like all those other girls."
His hand came down to cup her over the satin bra, squeezing her tit hard, and then started to fondle her. She was paralysed, staring forward, incapable of thought beyond he's touching my boobs, and I'm not doing anything. He reached inside her bra and pulled her tits out, so they sat uncomfortable over the top, squeezed up and together into a truly lewd image.
"Pretty nipples," he said, as his finger raked over one. He gave it a harsh flick, and watched it harden. "Nothing to say now, Anais? Not so smart anymore, are you? You sit back and relax, let me play with these tits."
To her disbelief, she did just that, barely aware of her heavier breathing as she let him grope her.
"See, you know how to be good."
He gave a little groan, and Anais' eyes flicked sideways, and saw the tent in his trousers. He spotted her looking.
"I don't know why you look so surprised. You did this."
He dropped a hand away from her tits to touch himself through his trousers, and she watched him as he squeezed his cock, still frozen.
"I really think you should help sort this out."
Before Anais could react, he'd grabbed her hand and pressed it to his cock, and with his hand around hers, he used her to jerk himself. She could feel how rock hard he was through his trousers, and his hand was so strong around hers, pinning it to him. He cooed as he did it, giving his approval. It wasn't long until the fabric became an annoyance, and he unbuckled and unzipped, letting his cock spring out in her face. He laughed a little.
"You act like you've never seen a cock before. I find that hard to believe."
He pumped himself in front of her. It was so thick and veiny, his tip oozing a pearl of precum already. He leaned forward, grabbing her head, and smudged it onto her lips. Anais cringed away, her face screwing up, tasting it in her mouth, and she reached up and wiped her lips. Finally, she reacted, glaring up at him, hateful.
"You sick fuck," she said. He only laughed again.
"Open wide," he said, and he tightened his grip on her head, his hand winding in her hair.
She looked at him disbelieving, and her anger turned to fear, tears pricking in her eyes.
"Open wide," he repeated, almost mocking. Still she stared at him. He grew impatient, and, using his free hand, grabbed her by the jaw, his thumb forcing it's way inside her mouth.
"Mhm, that wet tongue," he said, moving his thumb along it. "Come on. Be good. Open."
Slowly, she opened her mouth, staring scared into his eyes. He would make her, if she didn't.
"Stick your tongue out."
She did that, too. He gave a twisted smile, at the sight of her. "Just like that."
His hand left her jaw, and returned to his cock, and he gave himself another pump or two, before he slapped it against her tongue. She cringed away involunatrily, though she couldn't go far, with his hand in her hair, and he laughed. But her mouth stayed open, and he did it a few more times, slapping it down onto her tongue. His cock tasted salty, like sweat. The shame of it, the dirtiness of it coursed through her, her cheeks uncomfortably hot. He pulled his cock off her tongue and slapped it on her face, making a lewd noise as her cheek bounced with the force, and then it was back on her tongue, and he pushed himself into her mouth, and out again.
"Sweet little mouth," he grunted. "Made for my cock."
He thrust himself into her mouth, further than before, and then further again, hitting back of her throat. She thought she might gag, but she didn't, and then he was fucking her mouth gently, his hairy balls slapping against her chin, her nose pressed into his navel. She did gag then, and try to cringe away, but there was no escape from his invasion of her mouth, and all she could do was whimper around him. Saliva dripped down her chin, and she gripped onto the desk, her eyes scrunching up, watering. He pulled out with a groan, and slapped his wet cock on her face again, and she coughed and spluttered. She was vaguely aware of him ridding himself of his trousers, and then his shirt too.
"Stand up," he said, urgent, and when she didn't, he pulled her up by her hair, her tits jiggling with the force, her scalp sore.
He dragged her over to his desk, pushing her so she was sat on it. Surely he wasn't going to have sex with her? Suddenly, her instincts kicked in, and she pushed against his chest. "No," she said, wild, flailing against him. "No!"
He pinned his weight against her, and grabbed her throat with such force she gasped and her hands gripped the edge of the desk.
"Yes," he said, smushing his face against her ear. She could feel his cock pressing up against her thigh, and he used his knee to spread her legs wider. "Time to do what you do best, Anais, and spread your legs."
"Please, Mr Hudson," she said, starting to cry. "Please, just let me leave."
"I can't do that. Our hours not up yet," he said, grinning, and he licked her cheek, his breath hot on her face. She cringed away from him, as he tasted her tears.
"Please," she said again, ragged.
"Beg a little more, Anais. You're not even trying."
She gripped the desk harder. "I just want to - go - home," she sobbed. "I won't tell anyone."
Even as she spoke, the hand that wasn't around her throat crept down her nubile torso and cupped her pussy forcefully through her panties.
"You're so wet down here, darling, I don't believe you."
She knew it was true. She gasped as he slipped her underwear to the side and slammed a finger inside her. He pulled it out and stuck it in her mouth.
"Taste that?" he asked. "That's what a cunt that wants to get fucked tastes like."
With that, his hands dropped away, and she could feel his cockhead pressing up against her pussy, soaking him in her juices. He pressed against her hole, and she shrieked as he pushed himself in, stretching her out.
"Agh, fuck," she whined, her knuckles white on the desk. He thrust his hips forward and slammed inside her fully, sending pain shooting through her. Her hand came up to his shoulder, pressing back against him, squeezing the muscle there tight, bracing herself. He gave a grunt, and she cried out, and he pressed his face to hers again, breathing on her.
"Your cunt likes me," he said, as his cock pulsed inside her. She looked down, at his cock in her pussy, tears spilling out of her eyes. "Yeah, watch it. Watch me fuck your little hole."
He started thrusting then, roughly, without care. Every time he slammed back into her, her eyes rolled back and she whined in pain, unable to fight it. He got faster, fucking her with such force that the only thing keeping her in place was his hands. He pushed her onto her back, to lie on the desk, and he followed her, lowering his face to hers to push his tongue inside her mouth, their torsos pressed together. She made obscene noises; guttaral, animalistic ones, little whimpers of pain into his mouth, his beard scratching her face, his cock making a ruin of her inside. Her legs were still clamped as much together as they could, to his disliking.
"Spread your legs, nice and wide, like the good little slut you are," he said. She wasn't conscious of doing it, but her legs spread wider, allowing him in closer and his cock hit a spot inside her that made her eyes water, and not from fear. She let out a moan that embarrassed her, lusty and distressed, and he laughed.
"It's okay to like it, baby. You're a slut. You're made for this."
Her anger flared again. "I'm - not - a - slut," she managed to say, in between his brutal thrusts.
"You look like one to me," he said, and he dipped his mouth to her nipple, biting harshly. She cried out.
"Ngh, fuck!" she bit her lip, to try and stop herself making any more noises, but his cock hit that spot inside her again and she burst into a string of moans and yelps that fell naturally from her lips.
"Are you going to cum? I think I'll have to keep you if you do," he laughed, grunting heavily himself.
"Fuck - you," she said, and he shoved his tongue in her mouth again.
"You're going to make me cum, darling that's for - sure," he picked up his pace as he spoke. "Where do you want it? Your mouth?"
"No," she said, her eyes closed, her cunt fluttering as he carried on hitting her sweet spot.
"Your tits then? I'd like to paint them white."
"Fuck you," she gasped. "No."
"Your pussy then," she tried to protest but her mouth was too full with her moans, and he was louder. "You can have my cum dripping out of you, baby, I'll fill up your fertile little cunt. You'll like that. Don't worry, I'll still let you - taste it. Oh - fuck, I'm gonna–"
He gave a last few hard thrusts, sheathing himself in her completely, and then with a loud grunt his cock was twitching and could feel his seed spurting into her, making her wetter and warmer, dripping out around his cock. He let every last drop leave him, thrusting through his orgasm, and then he stilled. They both panted, his weight pressing down on her, his cock still inside her. Finally he pulled out, and removed himself from her. She felt his fingers rub up against her cunt, and then he shoved them in her mouth.
"As promised," he said, and he watched her taste his cum.
His eyes burned into hers, and she knew she hated him more than anyone on the planet.
She'd been so close to cumming.