After dropping her pink striped backpack on the couch, as usual, the slim blonde girl reaches back to gather her long straight hair into a ponytail. And also, as usual, I stand and lock the door before turning to face her. After our first encounter, the one where she had begged me not to fail her, she had continued to strip for me, but I much prefer unwrapping my cute little present. And what a gift she is; the slender frame of youth, wrapped in a white blouse, tight over her budding chest, above a hip-hugging black-and green pleated skirt. She is sly—it is shorter than the nuns permit and the curve of her pale leg is enticing as I scan her.

The student shudders under my gaze and her thighs rub ever so slightly. I smile. Even now, she is getting wetter for me and the fluttering in her flat belly is intensifying as she waits for her gift. Her pink lipstick gleams, as do her rounded blue eyes, in the late afternoon sunshine penetrating the wooden slats of my office window. The picture of young lust. And the object of mine.

And as she waits, quivering with anticipation, her fingertips tap against her bare thighs. Her tiny lips part to blast warm puffs into my chest as I raise my fingers between her tiny cleavage, taking my time as I undo each button of her tight uniform blouse. So round and blue, her eyes, surrounded by a hint of eyeshadow despite the rules, remain locked on my face. Rule-breaker, rebel, and mine for as long as she keeps returning to me.

After swallowing my load and earning her passing grade, she had returned. And we had fucked ... Well, I had fucked her. While she yearned, she had no idea how to please a boy, let alone a man. Even that first blowjob wasn’t that good, but she was a fast learner. And I was an excellent teacher. And now, every Friday, her parents think she is still on dance team, practicing after school, but she doesn’t need practice any more. My student is an accomplished fucktoy, and she returns to me to prove it, again and again. She hasn’t been in my class for two semesters.

Once I peel away her blouse and toss it on her backpack, I swallow. It’s a view I savor. It’s a view I dream about every day between our meetings. The same cute lace pink bra is taut over her pert miniature cones, a hint of darker pink peeking through. As much as I want to grind my palms into the lace and have her cry out, I grin and move on. Today is special and I will take my time.

When I slide her pleated green and black skirt down her sleek legs, its matching pink panties with the cutest tiny bow on the front greeted me.

Just as I strip my shirt over my head, her outstretched fingers, so warm and silky, settle on my chest. She knows to wait until I am staring at her before she rakes me with her pink nails as she slips to her knees. The smile on her face widens as her fingertips glide along my abdomen, sending shivers through my shaking body. God, I want to fuck her so hard. And she knows it. She wants that as well.

When her fingers meet at my buckle, she unfastens it, slowly, oh, so slowly. A shudder races along my spine. And my diminutive imp is hungry. I can tell by her unblinking eyes, but she also knows how much I enjoy watching her play. When she pulls my fly apart and lowers my trousers, she leans in and, keeping her gaze on me, rubs her face into my crotch. Mouth open, her teeth chew into my solid shaft, still trapped in my underwear. Oh, how she hungers as she gnaws all the way up and then back down before pressing in to inhale my scent.

The fact that she had done the same thing before earning her grade should have been a clue. When I asked her if she’d ever been with a boy, she shook her head. All she knew was it made her feel good. And it damned sure made me feel good as well. Eyes still locked on me; her fingers slid into my waistband. There is no hesitation, only anticipation as a tremor races through both of us. When she tugs my briefs down, my solid, aching rod surges free, and she gasps once more.

When she first saw my cock, she had jerked back in surprise, having only ever seen her baby brother’s miniature penis. But, from that very first time, when her enthusiasm far outweighed her skill, she fell in love with it. In some ways, I feel like I am just the lucky man to which it is attached. Most especially when that initial sweep of her soft, warm tongue glides up the underside. Shivers swirl over my spine and my knees wobble as she begins.

One hand on the shaft, stroking in time with her licking, and the fingers of the other fondling my swollen globes; it is once again clear she has learned so much since that first time. Moreover, her groaning as she licks sends more chills through me as I clasp my hands against the side of her tiny skull. Soon, soft and then not so soft kisses enter her caressing routine as she looks up at me. As the petite imp worships what she loves with her mouth, I smile down into her bright, gleaming eyes.

When her lips finally get to my helmet, her hot breaths are fast as she swirls her tiny tongue, so silky, so warm, around the rim. Each time it sweeps over my nerve bundle, she stops and pokes, sending massive aching jolts into me. Her eyes twinkle up at me. She worships as she circles it, not yet even at my tip.

But when her mouth opens, and she lowers her lips onto it ... Oh, God! My fingers tighten against her skull and it takes every iota of restraint not to shove myself deep into her tight, warm mouth. As large as I am, her teeth scrape ever so gently as her jaw widens to admit me. Her velvet tongue never stops, nor do her stroking or fondling fingers. She is well trained, well-experienced and loves every minute I let her play. So I hold back and wait; shivers run through me, the toes in my shoes curl tight, and I clench my jaw as she bobs and twists her head over my knob.

Letting students worship is a core value in our school—the nuns all repeat that mantra. Who am I to disagree. So I wait.

But soon it is time; I cannot take anymore and, as usual, she knows it, feeling the strengthening pulses in her grip as the shivers within me have become groaning twists of my entire body. Her smile is nervous now. Sometimes I just throw her to the floor and take her from behind. The ponytail is very useful. But, as much as I need to fuck her, I know she prefers what I am going to do with her today. And it’s a special day.

Okay, in truth, anytime I get to fuck her in any way is my favorite. And a groan slides from me as her outspread fingers rake upwards, digging her pink nails into me to stabilize her as she rises from her knees. When she stands before me once more, rubbing her flat stomach against my pulsing bulb, sending tremors of anticipation through both of us, I lean forward. As my cock smears pre-cum across her faultless warm skin, I unclasp her bra; the strap flies into my waiting fists and I lower it from her shoulder. Once she pulls her slim arms through, I toss it to the couch. We could use the couch, but not today. Today is for her.

Air sticks in my throat when my gaze settled on her strawberry tipped cones. As much as she reveres my cock, I love her slight titties. And I want to grip them and suck them into my mouth so badly, saliva hangs in the corner of my open lips. She sees and her slender chest arches up, tempting me as her eyes flare with lust.

But I don’t. Not yet. Instead, I place my hand, fingers wide, between them; her heartbeat pounds under my palm as I push her carefully backwards. Her eyes widen with recognition. When I nod, her tongue whips all around her lips in a flash. She loves this more than anything we do in here, and when her legs mash into the front of my desk, a long moan escapes her lips. And as I bend her backwards, her fingernails squeaking along the wooden desktop behind her, the moan becomes a loud growl. My student is hungry; she needs her belly filled. As she licks her lips again, her gaze flick to my cock now jutting over her reclining frame.

Once on her back, her fingers scrabble upwards to grip the far edge, pulling herself up and raising her dangling feet from the ground. As her cones rise and fall ever more quickly, I reach over and grasp her pretty pink lace waistband in my fingers. As she gasps for air, her nails clicking along the wooden rim, I run my fingertips under the material now taut over her small mound. Beneath it, her crease and lovely little button of pleasure glide as she curls her pelvis under my roaming hands. The aroma of her passion tickles my nostrils—sweet, light, buttery nectar.

When I tug downwards, she lifts her cute butt off the desk so I can slide them down each now shaking leg. She knows what I am about to do and as I drop to my knees, her head thumps back on the wood. Bracing for what’s coming, her white-knuckled hands squeak along the edge while she raises her legs and spreads them wide for me. As I gaze up towards her chin, trembling as she waits, her splayed out body is like a beautiful pale butterfly, legs for wings gently flapping as her arms outstretched tense and release. This close, the aroma from her puffy, swollen, glistening peach is overpowering, drawing me closer.

As soon as I place the tip of my tongue at the very bottom of her leaking cleft, she bows upwards and cries out. It has been a long week for both of us. As I drag my tongue upwards, she huffs and her tiny frame twists on the wood as her legs wobble in midair. Once at the top, I pull my tongue away to savor her flavor—so sweet, before sending a slight puff over where she wants my lips. As her body thumps against the desktop, she cries out as the heated air ruffles her cute curly hairs and swirls around the tiny nib, now angry and prominent within.

Now that her peach is swollen, I can glide my lips up and down each long curtain edge in turn. At each soft kiss on her silky skin, flushed pink and hot with rushing blood, it clenches, already hungry for me. My student is breathing fast and her entire body is alternating between taut as a pale soft plank and shaking. One poke into her slit followed by a single lap is all I give her, but she cries out and her head bumps as she slams it back. Poor little thing, you’d think, but she loves every second. She dreams about it all week. And it’s a very special day, so I lean in and do it again. Another cry. Another powerful twist of her tiny frame. A smile slides across my face; sometimes I leave her just like this while I grade papers. Or rather pretend to, since having her naked, eyes pleading and bright red, hungry pussy dripping nectar down the face of my desk is distracting, to say the least. But not today.

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The Student

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