Because no-one could know about us.
He was one of my teachers. Physics. And what we were about to do was going to get very physical. The sort of physical that a teacher shouldn't get with his student.
"What is it, Miss Wong?" He called me Miss Wong in class. He called me Miss Wong when we were making love, sometimes, but only when he wanted to tease me, because he would never call me Krystina by accident. His voice was soft, teasing me, and now his thumbs teased me too, brushing my sex, lightly caressed my slippery sex lips, parting me, teasing me, drawing my wetness from me to flow out onto my inner thighs.
"What is it, Miss Wong?" he asked again and I moaned again, wordlessly, wanting him inside me. Wanting him to fuck me and unable to express it.
"Oh please... please ... I can't stand it," I was almost sobbing with my need and my desire. I wanted him inside me, deep inside me, filling me and moving in me. I was enjoying what he was doing, I knew he was enjoying this too but I needed more. He liked to make me wait until I begged and pleaded with him, and I knew his cock was ready for me, rigidly erect, ready to take me at any time, and I was ready to be taken. I wanted him to take me. Badly. Right now.
His thumbs caressed my lips, my wetness flooding and slippery, his thumbs parting me, peeling me open, and he knew what he was doing to me. He knew me so well, knew my body, knew what excited me, and I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him, but he was holding back, his anticipation building and he had so much more self control than I did, because I had none. Not when I was with Elijah.
"Ohhhhh... ohhhhhh... ohhhh." I whimpered softly with every breath, my body at once tense with anticipation and limp with excitement.
"Ohhhhhhhh." His thumbs peeled my lips wide open, and something touched me. Something big, and I knew it was the head of his cock. His swollen cockhead, large, plum-sized, and I'd thought he was huge those first few times. Now? Now he was perfect for me. Large, yes, stretching me, yes, but not too large, just right and I loved the way he stretched me around him as he entered me and slid up thickly inside me.
"Oooooooh." I moaned as he pushed lightly, his cockhead pushing inwards between my labia, pushing against my entrance, easing back, pushing again. Teasing, not demanding and shivers of delight ran through me, that gentle sliding pressure filling me with desire, with need, with want and there was nothing I wanted more than to experience his cock sliding relentlessly up inside me to fill my sex.
"Please," I breathed. "Oh please, Mr. Montoya... do it to me now. I can't wait."
"You're mine, Krystina," he breathed, and his voice was different, almost desperate. "You're mine and I want to take you hard today."
"Okay," I moaned. Gentle. Hard. Over his desk. On the floor. Hanging from the ceiling. I'd do it anyway he wanted me to. Any way at all. All he had to do was tell me.
"I'm yours, Elijah," I gasped, knowing I was. I was his. Completely.
"You're mine, Krystina," he said again, telling me what we both knew, and his cockhead was there, against my entrance, and he pushed, not roughly, but irresistibly, his cockhead stretching me and opening me. My body surrendered to him, as it always did now, and he was inside me, my entrance circling his shaft below the glans, my sex accepting his cockhead, feeling him inside me, swollen, large, hard, pressing thickly against my channel walls.
"Uuuuhhhhh." I tensed, hands clenched into fists, back arching, eyes wide and my boobs quivered as he thrust hard. His hands gripped my hips, his body forced mine up against his desk as his cock drove into me and that rigid shaft surged deep up inside me, stretching me around him for the first time that afternoon, that was such exquisite pleasure. That first thrust was such exquisite surrender, and I shuddered rapturously, trapped between the edge of his desk and his body as he slapped up hard against me.
Filling me with his length, stuffing me full.
"Aaaahhhhhh," I sobbed, as he pulled back and thrust in again. Hard, and he gave me everything, not stopping until he was pressed up hard against me and I was pressed up hard against his desk. "Aaahhhhhh."
"Too hard?" he grunted.
"Don't stop," I pleaded. Too hard? Yes, too hard, but I didn't care. As long as Mr. Montoya was fucking me, he could do me anyway he liked. Hard. Gentle. Over his desk. On the floor. In between. Any way at all.
He didn't stop. He didn't slow. He didn't pause. He fucked me. He fucked me hard now, his cock thrusting and plunging into me, stretching my channel around his cockhead, massaging my channel with his movements, and my sex squeezed down on him, squeezed down on his cockhead and his shaft as he rammed himself into me, pressing deep with every thrust, while his hands gripped my hips and forced me to move for him as he wished.
"Fuck me, Mr. Montoya," I gasped, jarred against the edge of the desk with every plunging penetration, and his thighs pushed my thighs wider apart so that I was almost lying on his desk as he filled me. "Fuck me hard... make me scream."
"God, you're so fucking tight," he grunted, pushing deep and now he held himself high inside me and I squeezed him with my sex, sobbing.
"Krystina... Krystina..." He was driving into me again, long hard strokes and I felt every inch of him sliding in and out. Easing outwards until only his cockhead was inside me, ramming inwards until he was pressed up against me, his thighs forcing mine apart as he forced himself into me. Deep. So deep. So good.
"Use me," I sobbed. "Use me." Bent over his desk, helpless, his cock ramrodding into me, I was his to use and I wanted him to use me. Before he'd first taken me, I'd never imagined sex was like this. So good, so exciting, so wonderful. So exquisitely pleasurable to surrender myself. Such pleasure in experiencing a man's rigid cock within my body, an intimate surrender of myself. Such exquisite delight to be taken and used like this by a man, and it was Mr. Montoya who'd brought me this knowledge, this awareness of myself.
He'd taught me everything.
His hands left my hips, moved under me to cup my breasts, lift me a little and now I wasn't supporting myself at all, I was hanging in his arms like a rag doll as he fucked me. His fingers found my nipples, worked on them, brushing, squeezing, rubbing and the pleasure jumped from exquisite to completely unbearable.
"Aaaahhhhhhhh," I cried out as he humped himself hard into me and I wasn't standing anymore. I was hanging off the edge of the desk, my feet flying with every single one of his thrusts and his hands held me. My hands scrabbled helplessly at the surface of the desk and my head hung down. Looking down, I could see his cock surging into me, thick and hard, blue veins on the surface, my lips spread tight around him and his girth, the way he fitted into me, that never ceased to amaze me.
"Uuuggghhhhh." In me. All of him in me and he was easing out and I watched, hanging in his arms. He held me easily and I loved his strength and his size. He was five foot six, stocky, two hundred pounds of muscle, without any fat on him. I was five foot one, one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, slender, not quite tiny in his arms but I always felt like a doll. Right now, I was a doll, a little Chinese rag doll, hanging in his hands.
"Nnnnuugghhhh." Oh god. Again, and I watched, I felt. I felt him inside me, surging inwards, my channel walls massaging his cockhead as he slid upwards, my channel walls clasping his shaft as he buried himself to the balls inside me and I felt so full, so complete.
"You okay, Krystina?" he groaned.
"You're so big in me," I gasped. "I can feel you all the way up inside me." Every time, and I loved that feeling. I'd loved that feeling from the very first time he took me.
"God, I want to fuck you forever," he grunted, his thrusts long and slow now, not as hard. "Can you lean over the desk again?"
"Yes," I gasped, as he lowered me and I did, bracing myself on my forearms as his hands returned to my hips and I knew what he wanted. I knew what he was going to do.
