I remember the smell first. Your scent. It was the first time I felt like I was safe. It both enveloped me in protection and made me want to fuck you like your whore.
I remember the night I first experienced the depths of that scent, how much it, or you, affected me. It was a dark, late night, a Saturday I believe. You had sent me a text out of the blue. Asked me to meet you there in ten minutes, to bring the item from the video I had sent you earlier.
The school was empty except for us. I walked into your office, kicked up the doorstop and let the door close softly behind me. You sat waiting for me behind your desk, staring at me calmly, but your eyes were filled with fire. I could hear your foot tapping madly away beneath the desk, your energy trying to escape. I could see your struggle, your conflict from deep within.
I sat down across from you. We exchanged pleasantries as though I were just another parent coming to you to discuss an issue with my child on a normal school day. As though we didn't have a connection so intense it overtook us from the moment we first met. We knew that this could not be, SHOULD not be, but continued to tempt fate.
I was nervous, my hands trembled and my voice shook. I reached into my bag and pulled out the long pink dildo I had been so diligently practicing on as you had requested. I suctioned it to the desk between us. You let out a sharp shaky breath and adjusted your growing cock. I enjoyed watching you squirm a little. My confidence rose.
I stood up and kicked the chair back. I bent over at my waist, facing you and lowered my elbows on to the desk, my cleavage peeked out of my little black tank top, the shiny rubber cock waiting for me. I found your eyes just inches from my own as I worked to gather enough saliva, then let it slowly drip from my rosey lips onto the smooth rubber tip.
