Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“Oh my god, Mr. Phillips,” I whisper, concerned. “Are you okay?”
He groans, his hand lightly caressing the rod through the twill material of his pants, running up and down its arched curve.
“I will be,” he rumbles deep in his throat, “after you kiss it.”
I gasp again. Kiss it? Kiss a man’s cock? Mr. Phillips has just hit upon my secret weak spot. Sure, I touch myself all of the time. I play with myself and even insert fruit into my sweet pussy, but even though mentally, I’m really dirty; physically, I’m a virgin. I’ve never had a man touch me, much less run his dick inside me, and the thought of playing with Mr. Phillips’ cock makes me … well, it makes me go weak, actually. I’m dying to try it.
So I drop to my knees in front of him. No need to tell him about my inexperienced state; this is the perfect time to get a little practice. My hands reach up to his waistband to unfasten his belt, but before I can, he pushes back in his chair.
My eyes flick to his, and I let out a little whine of disappointment, still on my knees.
“No, little girl,” he booms, standing up so that his big cock is practically in my face now, making me hungry. “Girls who suck, do it naked.”
At those words, I gasp. Naked? Me? Here at school in the middle of the day with people walking around outside?
The alpha male just grins again before striding around the classroom, pulling down the shades, and locking the door. We are now in a darkened space, not black but dimly lit, and I know that from the outside, it looks like an empty classroom. I can hear a few muffled conversations outside, and the slam of a couple of lockers, but otherwise, there’s no indication that anything is different.
“You’re lucky,” Mr. Phillips says, sitting back down in front of me. “It’s lunchtime, so people are gone, and no one’s going to suspect anything. Now, take off your clothes,” he commands.
I pause for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes before slowly getting to my feet. Am I going to do this? Am I really?
But Mr. Phillips is literally the man of my dreams, the guy I thought about when I was alone in bed, teasing myself with my fingers and moaning with ecstasy. He is literally the stuff of fantasies, except that now, it’s real … and we’re about to play.
So slowly, I grasp the hem of my sweater in both hands and pull it over my head, shaking my curls free. I take a deep breath before sneaking a look at him, and I am immediately gratified.
Because the big man is entranced. His gaze is riveted by my girls – the luscious, creamy orbs encased in a lacy demi-bra. The pale pink material cups my breasts lovingly, showing off their pale bellies in the dim light.
“You like?” I murmur, slowly tracing a finger along my décolletage, teasing him by running my finger into the deep valley between my girls.
“Little girl,” he replies, his voice hoarse. “I fucking love.”
I giggle then, my hands going to the back clasp and undoing it with a quick snap. Slowly, I ease the straps over my shoulders, stroking them off until my breasts are revealed in their full glory – pendulous, hanging, perfect ovoids with stiff, red nipples at the tips.
Coyly, I run my fingers around both nips, tracing the sensitive flesh before flashing a look at him and cooing again.
“They taste really good,” I sigh. “You want to try?”
The man is literally struck speechless, his eyes riveted by my movements. His cock is out now, and one of his hands is moving up and down that huge shaft in a rhythmic stroke. I can see the veins pulsing, his balls high and tight.
“I want to taste,” he growls low in his throat, so turned on that the words are a little garbled and hard to understand. “I need a taste.”
But it’s my turn to be in charge, so I shake my head coyly.
“No tastes for you, big guy,” I coo. “Only for me.”
And with that, I lift one of my girls up and lick the nipple. I savor the sweet bud, running my tongue around and around as electrical sparks shoot straight from my nip to my clit.
“Oh,” I moan between nips and licks. “Oh, tastes so good,” I murmur wickedly.
He just groans, his hand a blur on his shaft now. There’s so much pre-come that his pole is completely wet. His fist is easily pumping away, stroking through the copious lube – so much that it pools on the chair, making a sticky mess.
“Now, for the other,” I murmur coyly, lifting my left boob to my lips for a taste and doing the same with this nipple. Except this time, I give myself a little love bite, delicately nipping my tip with my small white teeth, flirting with Mr. Phillips through my lashes the entire time.