Sylvie watched as the girls dragged themselves half-heartedly around the field. It was Thursday afternoon, last lesson of the day and even she was struggling to summon any enthusiasm for hockey. She shivered a little as she tried to keep warm, waiting for the girls to complete their circuit.
"Come on, girls. Warm up properly, you don't want to pull any muscles."
Sylvie moved slowly, stretching and bending her body. She was proud of her appearance. Her face was smooth and wrinkle-free, with green eyes, button nose -- which had been described as cute by a former lover -- and plump, rosy lips; she had the features of a woman at least 10 years younger. She kept her figure in good shape - curvy but toned - and she knew she was attractive. Unfortunately, since her divorce had been finalised three years earlier, she'd had nothing but trouble with men. Every guy she'd met had seen her as a quick conquest; a few nights of hot sex and before they moved on. Her last attempt at a relationship had been a disaster. Perhaps her luck would change in her personal life like it had in her professional one?
She'd been at the school 7 months now and she was really starting to feel at home. It had been a dream job to get; a private, mixed sex school with a fantastic PE department, long holidays and a great wage structure. These kinds of job didn't come up very often and she couldn't believe her luck when they offered her the post. The previous incumbent had left for what the headmaster had termed 'personal reasons' and she'd been only too pleased to fill the void at short notice. The kids all came from very rich families and although there were a few who could do with being brought down a peg or two, most were ok.
Despite that, she hated taking senior girls for their weekly games lessons. The girls felt they were far too mature to get hot and sweaty chasing a ball around a hockey pitch and spent most of their time trying to catch the eye of the senior boys who were on the adjacent field for football training. And the boys didn't help matters either. They would stop and watch the girls, occasionally wolf-whistling, causing consternation among the group.
As Sylvie looked over, she spotted two of the young bucks sprawled on the grass, eyeing the girls as they went through their warm up; they whistled and cat-called and she could hear the girls giggling at the immature flirting. Then she saw a third male, standing separately. But he wasn't watching the girls. He was staring at her as she stretched and warmed her muscles. She turned away to continue her routine, but when she turned back, his eyes were still fixed on her. Sylvie carried on stretching, watching him from the corner of her eye. She didn't recognise him and the attention was making her a little uncomfortable.
The girls completed their circuit of the pitch and then joined her in the centre circle, distracting her. She took them through the end of their warm up, encouraging them to bend and flex, stretching the muscles in preparation for the game. Then she split them into teams and sent them off to play.
Blowing the whistle to start the game, she glanced back at the football pitch. The two coarse lads had gone back to play their game but the quiet third remained, staring at her blatantly.
Even from this distance, she could feel his gaze assessing her body, his eyes sweeping over her curves. Sylvie flushed, embarrassed at this obvious appraisal. She turned back to the game, studiously ignoring him as she put the girls through their paces; every so often she would feel suddenly warm and she knew that he was there again, watching her.
Forty-five minutes later, flushed and sweaty after an exhausting game, the girls returned to the locker room. Sylvie followed, hustling the stragglers; she didn't want to stay any later than necessary now school was effectively over for the day. Crossing the football field, the last few boys were trudging back to change too. Among them was the dark haired young man she'd caught watching her earlier. She walked past, determined to ignore him.
"You look very...fit...Miss."
Sylvie whirled round to confront him. She couldn't stop him watching her, but she sure as hell wasn't going to take any cheek from him.
"What's your name?" she demanded.
"I'm Paul, Miss. Paul Davies."
As he responded, he walked closer to her. Sylvie stood her ground as he approached, taking in a pair of emerald green eyes, set in a young but well moulded face. His body was buff, defined by exercise and his arms looked muscled and strong. Sylvie inexplicably imagined those arms wrapped around her and felt heat bloom in her stomach. She was momentarily flustered, shocked by the feelings that he had unknowingly aroused. Composing herself, she took him to task.
"Well, Paul Davies," she said, "I don't know what you think you're up to, but I'd appreciate it if you kept your comments to yourself in future."
Paul smiled and Sylvie felt the heat spreading. His smile was devastating; he was far more attractive than any eighteen year old had the right to be.
"Well, Miss," he responded, "I'm not up to anything. I just appreciate the female form and I think yours is fabulous." His eyes swept her body.
Sylvie gasped, shocked at his boldness. "I think you should direct your attentions elsewhere. There are plenty of girls your own age around," she snapped, acutely aware of her nipples stiffening under his gaze. Warmth bloomed in her cheeks. She brought her arms up and folded them across her chest, embarrassed by the way her body was responding to this young man.
"They're not a patch on you, Miss," he said. "I much prefer your sexy body to those stick insects."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Sylvie standing alone, dumbfounded.
She knew she should go after him and warn him off, but her mind was reeling. She couldn't believe what had happened. He was eighteen years old; she had no right to be attracted to him! She knew she had to avoid him at all costs before she lost control of the situation.
***
Despite her intentions, it was easier said than done. Everywhere she turned, it seemed Paul was there; his eyes caressed her body in a way that made her cheeks flush and caused arousal to trickle between her legs. For weeks, she tried to ignore the feelings he aroused in her, thinking he'd get bored if he thought she wasn't responding to him.
Then things changed. One day he passed her in the crowded hallway, and in the crush of bodies he brushed against her. She felt his fingers caress her bare leg beneath her gym skirt for a second and it was like a jolt of electricity racing through her, raising goose bumps on her flesh and making her heart pound. Again, she tried to ignore it -- perhaps it had been accidental -- but the following day, as he stood in front of her in the cafeteria queue his hand crept behind him and stroked her leg, brushing lightly over her inner thigh and causing a flood of wetness in her groin.
As each second passed, his fingers stroking her skin, she knew she should stop him, move out of reach; she felt powerless, every part of her was aching to feel his hand reach higher and stroke the very centre of her need. When he finally moved away, it was all she could do to walk to the table with her food. She was sure everyone must realise what had just happened and she picked at her food, her appetite gone, but nobody rose from their seat to proclaim her a harlot.
Sylvie knew she had to put a stop to it. She was a forty-one year old woman, a teacher; surely she could deal with the attentions of a horny eighteen year old? That afternoon, she sent a note to his form tutor, requesting his attendance at detention after school that evening, determined to use the opportunity to talk to him and sort things out once and for all.
At half past three, she sat at the desk in the classroom, glancing at her watch every few seconds, nervously awaiting his arrival. The school was quiet now, most of the pupils had left for the day and the other members of staff were gathering their things to head home for the evening. Sylvie was nervous - more nervous than she ought to be. The way she reacted to this young man shocked her; she seemed unable to cope whenever he was around. If she didn't get a handle on the situation, things could spiral out of control very quickly.
She heard footsteps approaching and her mouth suddenly felt dry. The door opened and he entered the room. Sylvie was immediately aware of him; her arousal surged as she watched him approach the desk.
"So, where do you want me, Miss?" he asked with a grin.
Sylvie swallowed heavily and tried to compose herself.
"Sit down there." She indicated a chair at the front of the classroom. "We need to talk."
****
As he sat down, Paul watched Sylvie carefully. This was a make or break moment, he felt. Since he'd found out she was single, he had been trying to manoeuvre her to this point. He'd noticed her at the start of term -- she'd been new to the teaching staff -- but he knew he'd have to bide his time to get what he wanted. Her reaction to his earlier touch at lunch had given him confidence and he waited for his opportunity.
Sylvie got up and walked around to perch on the front of the teacher's desk and Paul appraised her intently. She moved with unconscious elegance; her body was toned but not too muscular. Auburn hair curled softly onto her shoulders, she had high, firm breasts and her legs were long and supple. Paul couldn't help but stare at them; more often than not she wore a short gym skirt to take lessons and her bare, tanned legs were on display. She was wearing that skirt now and he had to resist the urge to walk over to her, run his hand up the inside of her bare thigh and stroke the material of her panties between her legs. He imagined parting her legs as she sat on the desk, hooking the material to one side and...
"Are you listening to me, Paul?"
His attention was dragged back to the present by the tone of her voice, wavering and unsure.
"Sorry, I was miles away." He smiled and looked at her, nervously twisting the hem of her gym skirt like a teenager as she tried to tell him why he should leave her alone and concentrate on girls his own age. He let her talk, nodding here and there as if in agreement, then as she was getting into her stride, he struck.
"Why didn't you stop me earlier?" he interjected.
Sylvie stopped -- her mouth open in mid-sentence -- and stared at him.
"If you mean what you're saying," he continued, "you'd have stopped me at lunch today."
"I...I thought..." Sylvie floundered, unable to justify her earlier behaviour.
"You see, Miss," Paul said in a considered tone, "I think you liked it. I think you wanted me to carry on. I think you wanted me to touch you...touch your pussy. I could smell your scent, you know. Did you know how sweet you smell when you're aroused? I can smell it on you now..."
"No! No, I didn't...I wasn't..." Sylvie babbled, but Paul continued as if she had said nothing.
"In fact," he said, "I think if I came over there right now and spread your legs, your pussy would be wet for me, wouldn't it?"
Sylvie was speechless, shocked by the presumptuous words that fell from his lips. He seemed to have no boundaries, no sense of propriety. Her nerves were jangling, her conscience was telling her to get out of there, to flee before things went any further. She would hand in her notice and find a job elsewhere, get away from this boy and temptation. But her legs wouldn't move. She sat on the desk, silent and still, as he rose from his seat and moved in front of her.
"Your skin is so soft," his voice was almost a whisper now as he stood before her. "I want to touch you again. I'm going to touch you again right now. Are you going to stop me?"
He waited a few beats, giving her an opportunity to resist, and then his hand brushed the outside of her thigh. She held her breath, trembling as he stroked her leg, inching up beneath the hem of her skirt towards her inner thigh. Moving his face toward her, his breath was a gentle breeze on her face; his eyes were piercing straight through hers. Then he brushed his lips gently over hers but her mouth was stiff and unyielding, refusing to accept what was happening.
"Kiss me, Miss," he whispered against her lips. "You want to kiss me. I can feel your heart racing. I can see the flush in your cheeks. Open your lips and kiss me."
His mouth covered hers again and his hand moved to stroke her pussy through her panties. Sylvie gasped and Paul pulled her to him, exploring her mouth as it softened and yielded to his kiss. Her head was whirling. She hadn't even been aware of opening her legs for him, but he was now standing between them, his fingers exploring the contours of her labia through the soaked fabric of her underwear, pressing the wet material against her throbbing clitoris. Belatedly, she tried to pull away.
"No, Paul, we mustn't. This is wrong...this is so wrong..." but Paul didn't stop. He nibbled gently at her lower lip as his fingers hooked her panties to one side and stroked the smooth, shaven skin of her slit. That was Sylvie's undoing. Moaning into his mouth, her hips surged forward, urging him on.
"Oh god, yes," she moaned, "there...rub me there."
Paul obliged, his fingers sliding over the wetness; his thumb pushed between her labia to glide over her swollen nub as two fingers slid inside her and gently probed for her g spot. Sylvie rocked against him and her fingers slid into his hair, pulling his face to hers as she kissed him deeply, giving herself up to the sensations. Her pussy was so wet; she could hear the squelch as his fingers caressed her and even in her arousal, she was still embarrassed at how much this young man turned her on.
Paul pulled his fingers away and a sigh of disappointment escaped her lips. As she squirmed on the desk, aching for his touch, he raised his hand to his face and put his fingers into his mouth.
"Mmm, I knew you'd taste good." He smiled at her. "So good, that I'm going to lick your delicious cunt right now."
Sylvie was stunned at this audacious pronouncement. She couldn't believe he thought this was going any further. Knowing she had to stop immediately, she struggled against him. Paul let her go and watched as she tried to compose herself.
"I'm sorry," he said, abashed. "You're just so beautiful. You turn me on so much."
He stroked her cheek gently and Sylvie drew in a shuddering breath. She was still on the precipice; her body ached with need. Paul took her hand and brushed it over the front of his trousers, tracing her fingers round the outline of his turgid cock.
"Feel how much I want you," he whispered as his lips moved to cover hers again. He let her hand go. Her mind clouded with lust, Sylvie continued to rub his hardness as his tongue probed the moist cavern of her mouth. Paul deepened the kiss, his hand moving back between her legs to stroke her wetness.
"Please, let me taste you," he begged.
Paul's fingers pushed inside her again and Sylvie moaned as her responded to him urgently; her resistance was finally broken. Paul sensed her capitulation. Taking hold of her hips, he pulled Sylvie to the edge of the desk and eased her panties down her legs, putting them into his pocket.
"A keepsake." He grinned as he eased her legs wider apart. "Lay back on the desk," he commanded and in a daze, Sylvie did as she was bid. Paul surveyed her shaven labia and stroked his finger over her; she shuddered at his touch.
"You have the most delicious looking pussy," he said. "I can't wait to taste it. And then I'm going to put my cock in it and fuck you."
He moved swiftly between her legs and licked the length of her slit. Sylvie moaned. Paul eased her sticky labia apart with his fingers and probed his tongue inside her. She moved her hips, pushing towards him as he began to lavish attention on her pussy, nibbling and sucking on her clit while his fingers fucked her, then swapping over, his thumb rubbing over her nub as his tongue delved inside to scoop out her sweet nectar.
Sylvie was in heaven; she was almost mindless with ecstasy. He seemed to know exactly when she was getting close to climax and he slowed his movements, bringing her back from the edge, before slowly building the momentum again, his tongue and fingers alternately licking and probing at her very core. Her pussy was burning; she was on fire from his touch.
"Oh god, Paul," she groaned, "that's so good, don't stop...I'm coming..."
This time Paul continued rubbing her clit until she exploded into orgasm, crying out his name. He fastened his mouth over her pussy, lapping the juices that flowed from her as she writhed in wanton abandon beneath him, whimpering as she gave her body up to the overwhelming pleasure he'd given her.
She was dimly aware of Paul moving away as she lay panting on the desk, trying to recover from the tumultuous sensations she'd just experienced. She opened her eyes to see him removing his clothes, baring his beautiful body to her appreciative gaze. As he turned back towards her, she caught sight of his cock and gasped. It was thick and long, with a smooth purple dome; all sense of morality was gone, she couldn't wait to feel it inside her. He stroked it as he watched her, watching him.
"Do you see what you do to me?" he growled as he moved towards her. "Now I have to fuck you."
He pulled her back to the edge of the desk and rubbed his dome along her cleft, before splitting her labia with his prick and burying his shaft deep inside her. He closed his eyes and groaned with pleasure as he felt her heat engulf him. Stopping for a moment, savouring the tight prison surrounding him, feeling her muscles still clenching intermittently from her orgasm, he then grabbed her hips tightly and withdrew before slamming the full length of his cock back inside her.
Sylvie loved the feel of his penis, filling her completely. She murmured encouragement as he fucked her hard and deep.
You feel so thick, fuck me Paul, fill me up with your cock."
He needed no further bidding. Over and over, his hips slapped against her as he pounded into her cunt. Sylvie was insensible as she enjoyed his deep thrusts.
"Yes...so good...fuck...harder...please...oh god, yes..."
Paul drove into her for a few moments more, before withdrawing. She moaned with disappointment; her labia clung to his shaft as if to prove how reluctant her body was to release him. He reached forward and pulled her off the desk then pushed her down to her knees in front of him. Taking his cock in his hand, he rubbed it across her face, smearing his pre-cum and her juice over her mouth and cheeks.
"Suck it," he commanded in a low voice, grabbing the back of her head with his other hand as he pushed his cockhead between her lips. Sylvie obeyed with pleasure, stretching her mouth wide to receive his girth as he slid deeper between her lips. She gagged as he touched the back of her throat and tried to pull away, but he held her firm.
"Suck my cock, Sylvie. Show me how much you love to lick it." He withdrew, releasing his hold on her head and she gasped for breath as strings of saliva dangled from her mouth.
"It's too big...I can't take it all..." she panted. Tentatively, she took his dome between her lips again, this time holding the bottom in her fist as her mouth slid along his length. She licked over the tip, her tongue sliding into the slit to taste the droplets of pre-cum before tracing the veins down the shaft and licking his balls. Then she took him back between her lips and started to fuck him with her mouth, taking him as deep as she could.
Paul groaned. "You're pretty good at this, aren't you, Miss?"
Sylvie stiffened at the reminder of her position. She released him from her mouth and rose swiftly to her feet, her face flushed with embarrassment.
"Paul, oh god, this is all wrong..."
"Are you going to leave me like this?" Paul demanded, nodding towards his engorged cock.
Sylvie's eyes dropped and she licked her lips, struggling between desire and morals. Paul took advantage of her hesitancy and moved closer, wrapping his hands behind her and pulling her close. His mouth brushed over hers and his tongue traced the line of her lower lip.
"I want you, Sylvie," he murmured.
His lips brushed hers again and his hands slid underneath her top, moving up to trace her stiffened nipples through the fabric of her bra. Sylvie moaned heavily, giving in to the desire and returned the kiss; her hands roamed over him, stroking his back, the curve of his buttocks as his hand slid beneath the lacy fabric and cupped her breast. She arched towards him, pressing the aroused bud into his palm.
"Let's get this off," he chuckled. Raising her arms, he lifted her t-shirt up over her head and dropped it carelessly to the floor. Then he scooped one breast out from beneath the bra cup and lowered his head, taking the nipple into his mouth and gently suckling. Sylvie's back arched again and she whimpered as his fingers searched between her legs again, stroking her moist pussy. Then his hands moved behind her and parted her buttocks, his wet fingers circling her tight rosebud.
He paused, as if seeking permission, then his finger pushed gently against the natural resistance of her anus. She pushed back until she felt the tightness give way and his finger was wriggling inside her. Moaning softly, she moved against him as he gently eased a second finger inside her.
"You like that, hmmm?" he asked as he wriggled his fingers deeper. "You want my cock in there?"
Sylvie shook her head. "I've never...I don't...I'm not sure I can do that," she finally admitted.
Easing his fingers out, Paul turned away and grabbed a chair, sitting down and drawing Sylvie towards him.
"Turn around," he commanded and Sylvie did as she was bid. He pushed her legs open and pulled her backwards so she was astride his lap. Pushing his fingers inside her pussy, he then smeared the head of his cock with her juices.
"Now, you're going to sit on my lap and I'm going to fuck that beautiful arse," he laughed.
Holding his prick in one hand, he drew her down gently, positioning the dome against her ring. Sylvie gasped as she felt the head nudge her anus and start to push it open. Wrapping his arm across her waist, he pulled her down further onto him. She felt herself stretching open until he finally pushed through the barrier with a pop. Then he eased her down slowly until she was on his lap, his length buried in the tightness of her arse.
"Doesn't that feel good?" He grinned.
Sylvie nodded cautiously, still getting accustomed to the tight, full feeling in her rectum. Then he reached around and one hand gently stroked and squeezed her breast as the other slid between her legs and rubbed over her slit once more. Sylvie couldn't help it. She arched against him and she gasped as she felt him move inside her. Slowly they began to build up a rhythm, Sylvie bouncing gently on his lap as he fucked her, while his fingers worked their magic over her clitoris and inside her pussy.
Her breath coming in ragged gasps, Sylvie knew she was close to orgasm. A flush spread across her chest and neck as she bucked and writhed on Paul's lap, his fingers sliding in fast circles over her nub as she climaxed. Paul felt her clench even tighter around him as the muscles contracted inside her pussy and he knew he wasn't far from coming either. With supreme effort, he held back; there was only one place he wanted to come.
She slumped on his lap, overcome with the waves of pleasure riding her body; Paul gently lifted her off his cock and laid her back on the desk. Then, taking his shaft in his hand, he stroked it roughly until he exploded with a shout, spraying jets of hot seed over her prone body. Fountains of white goo splattered over her bare skin. Paul collapsed back into the chair, panting heavily.
The room was quiet, save for the sounds of their breathing as it slowed and regulated. Eventually, Sylvie stirred.
"That was incredible." She sighed deeply as she lay semi-naked across the desk, her ravaged anus gaping, breasts and belly covered with his rapidly cooling seed. "You're an amazing lover. How the hell did you get so good at sex?"
Paul eased away from her gently and started to dress slowly. "Oh, my mum's best friend showed me the way," he said casually. "She broke me in and we've been fucking for a while now. She taught me everything I know."
"Oh my god," exclaimed Sylvie. "Didn't you tell anyone? She must have taken advantage of you, you're so young..." she broke off, immediately aware of the vast difference in their ages and flushed deeply.
"Nah, I enjoyed having an experienced woman teach me," he chuckled. "The trouble is, it's kind of spoiled me for girls my own age. I don't want an innocent; I want a woman who knows what she wants."
He finished dressing, and then kissed Sylvie gently on the mouth, before walking to the door.
"In fact," he said, "I have a particular penchant for teachers; specifically PE teachers."
Sylvie looked at him, momentarily confused. "Paul, you know we can't do this again...I could get sacked...you could get expelled..."
"Yes, it's become a bit of a problem," he mused. "But we'll keep fucking as long as I want you. Don't worry; Dad is a huge benefactor to the school. He and the headmaster are old friends." Paul opened the door to leave, and then turned back, as if he'd forgotten something. He grinned at her in a way that sent chills down Sylvie's spine.
"Didn't you ever wonder what happened to your predecessor?" He smiled wolfishly, and then walked out; the door closed behind him with a click that Sylvie knew signalled the end of her career.
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