Teach Me Tonight

The classroom smelled of old books and chalk dust, the kind of scent that clung to your clothes and reminded you of deadlines and teenage angst. I was seventeen, a senior, and like half the girls in my year, I had a crush on Mr. Carson, our English teacher. He was the kind of man who made you forget about the dull drone of Shakespearean sonnets and the endless essays on symbolism. Tall, with broad shoulders and a jawline that could cut glass, he was freshly divorced, and the whispers in the hallways painted him as a tragic hero—a man wronged by love, ripe for the picking. I wasn’t one to believe in tragedy, though. I saw opportunity.

That morning, I’d woken up with a plan. It was bold, reckless, maybe even stupid, but I was tired of pining from afar. I wanted him to notice me, really notice me. So, I’d slipped into a skirt so short it barely covered my ass, paired with a tight white blouse that hinted at the curves beneath. The pièce de résistance? No panties. Not a thread. I’d shaved my pussy smooth the night before, the pink flesh glistening under the bathroom light, and I’d practiced my moves in the mirror—crossing and uncrossing my legs, letting my skirt ride up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of skin.

Class started, and I took my usual seat in the second row, directly in Mr. Carson’s line of sight. He was lecturing about Pride and Prejudice, his deep voice filling the room, but I wasn’t listening. I was focused on my mission. I waited for the perfect moment, when his eyes were on me, and then I struck. Slowly, deliberately, I crossed my legs, letting the hem of my skirt creep higher. His gaze flickered down, and I held my breath. He looked back up, his expression unreadable, but I knew I’d caught his attention. A few minutes later, I uncrossed my legs, giving him another flash of bare skin. This time, his eyes lingered, and I saw it—the slightest flush in his cheeks, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

The bulge in his pants was the real prize, though. It was subtle, but I noticed it, and it sent a thrill through me. Mr. Carson was affected. He was human, just like the rest of us, and he wanted me. Or at least, he wanted what I was offering.

When the bell rang, everyone packed up and left, but I stayed behind, pretending to gather my things. Mr. Carson approached my desk, his steps measured, his expression stern. “Brooke,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “we need to talk.”

I looked up at him, batting my eyelashes innocently. “Yes, Mr. Carson?”

He leaned against my desk, his tall frame looming over me. “What you’re doing… it’s not appropriate. You’re a student, and I’m your teacher. This kind of behavior—”

“I’m just sitting here, Mr. Carson,” I interrupted, smiling sweetly. “It’s not my fault if you’re looking.”

His jaw tightened, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. He was fighting himself, torn between his duty and his desire. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Brooke. You’re a smart girl. You know this isn’t right.”

I stood up, sliding my chair back with a scrape against the floor. “I know what I want, Mr. Carson. And I want you.”

His eyes widened, and he took a step back, as if my words had physically struck him. “You can’t just say things like that. I could lose my job. My reputation—”

“Your reputation?” I laughed, a low, husky sound that seemed to unsettle him further. “Or your control? You’re afraid of what might happen if you let go, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer, but the way his chest rose and fell told me everything I needed to know. I took a step closer, my skirt riding up even higher as I did. “I’m not afraid, Mr. Carson. Are you?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he reached out, his hand hovering in the air between us as if he wanted to touch me but couldn’t bring himself to do it. I closed the distance, pressing my body against his, feeling the heat of him through his dress shirt. His hands found my waist, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me tighter against him.

“You’re playing with fire,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

“And you’re the one who’s going to get burned,” I murmured back, my lips brushing his neck.

He didn’t respond, but his hands spoke for him. They moved up my back, under my blouse, tracing the curve of my spine. I shivered at his touch, my nipples hardening against the fabric of my bra. I could feel his erection pressing into my stomach, and I ground myself against him, savoring the way his breath hitched.

But then he pulled away, his hands dropping to his sides as if he’d burned himself. “This can’t happen, Brooke. It’s wrong.”

I smirked, stepping back and smoothing my skirt down. “If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right?”

He didn’t answer, just turned and walked to the front of the classroom, his shoulders tense. I watched him go, knowing I hadn’t won yet, but I was closer than ever.

That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way his hands had felt on my skin, the way his breath had quickened when I pressed against him—it was all I could think about. I knew I had to push harder, to make him see that what we wanted wasn’t wrong. It was inevitable.

So, I devised a plan.

The next evening, I drove to his house, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d dressed for the occasion, wearing nothing but a trench coat, my bare skin tingling in the cool night air. I’d practiced my speech in the mirror, but as I stood on his doorstep, I realized words weren’t necessary. Actions would speak louder.

I rang the doorbell, my hand trembling slightly. When he opened the door, his eyes widened in shock. “Brooke?”

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I let the trench coat slide off my shoulders, pooling at my feet. I stood there, naked and unashamed, my breasts rising and falling with my rapid breaths, my shaved pussy on full display.

His gaze raked over me, hungry and desperate. “What are you doing here?”

I stepped closer, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m here for you, Mr. Carson. For us.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing again. “You’re out of your mind. This is insane.”

“Or it’s exactly what we both want,” I countered, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

He hesitated, his hand reaching out as if to touch me but stopping short. “I can’t do this. I won’t.”

I leaned in, pressing my lips to his, soft and insistent. He resisted for a moment, but then his lips parted, and his tongue met mine, hungry and demanding. I moaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine as he gasped for breath. “You’re going to ruin me.”

“Or I’m going to set you free,” I whispered, my lips brushing his.

He didn’t respond, but he stepped back, opening the door wider. “Get inside before someone sees you.”

I smiled, a triumphant smirk that I knew would drive him wild. I stepped into his house, the trench coat forgotten on the doorstep, and let the door close behind me.

What followed was a blur of heat and hunger. He pushed me against the wall, his hands roaming over my body as if he couldn’t believe I was real. His lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he kissed and sucked, leaving marks that would bruise by morning. I arched into him, my hands gripping his hair, my moans echoing through the empty house.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, his mouth finding my breast, his tongue swirling around my nipple.

“Take me, Mr. Carson,” I panted, my head falling back against the wall. “Show me what you’ve been dreaming of.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He lifted me, his hands under my ass, and carried me to the couch, laying me down gently before shedding his own clothes. I watched as he undressed, my eyes drinking in the sight of his muscular body, his thick, hard cock standing proud.

“God, you’re perfect,” I murmured, reaching out to stroke him.

He hissed at my touch, his head falling back as he savored the sensation. “Tease,” he muttered, but there was no heat behind the words.

I laughed, a low, sultry sound that seemed to drive him wilder. “You love it,” I said, my hand moving slower, torturing him.

He groaned, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away. “Enough. I need you now.”

He didn’t waste time. He pushed my legs apart, kneeling between them as he gazed at my pussy, his eyes dark with desire. “So wet,” he murmured, his finger tracing my folds, gathering my juices before bringing it to his mouth.

I moaned, my hips bucking slightly as he tasted me. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss me deeply before positioning himself at my entrance. “Ready?”

“More than you know,” I breathed.

He thrust into me, slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on mine as he filled me completely. I gasped at the sensation, my nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his hips snapping against mine in a steady rhythm.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his forehead resting against mine. “So tight, so hot.”

“Fuck me, Mr. Carson,” I demanded, my voice thick with need. “Show me why I’ve been dreaming of this.”

He didn’t hold back. He pounded into me, his cock reaming my pussy, his balls slapping against my ass with each thrust. I met him stroke for stroke, my hips rising to meet his, my moans growing louder as the pleasure built.

“Harder,” I begged, my hands gripping the cushions. “Give it to me harder.”

He growled, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming more urgent. “You like it rough, don’t you? You like being fucked like the dirty little slut you are.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal through me, and I screamed his name as my orgasm hit, my pussy clenching around his cock as I came apart. He followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he filled me with his cum, his groans of pleasure filling the room.

We lay there for a moment, our bodies still joined, our breaths slowly returning to normal. “That was…” I started, but I couldn’t find the words.

“Incredible,” he finished for me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I smiled, running my hands over his back. “And that’s just the beginning.”

He chuckled, pulling out of me and helping me sit up. “You’re insatiable, Brooke.”

“And you’re just getting started,” I replied, my eyes sparkling with mischief.

Little did I know, that night was just the first chapter in our scorching affair. Over the next six months, Mr. Carson taught me everything there was to know about sex—and I showed him just how much a student could teach her teacher. But that’s a story for another time. For now, I’ll savor the memory of that first night, when I crossed the line from fantasy to reality, and Mr. Carson became mine.

The Headmistress’s Obsession

Madeline stood tall and proud, her commanding presence filling the small office as she prepared for the day’s auditions. At fifty three years old, she was still an imposing figure, her hair neatly styled, and her sharp eyes missing nothing. As the headmistress of the prestigious all-boys school, she took great pride in her work, especially when it involved the young men under her care. She had a particular interest in their development, specifically in the area of their manhood.

The school was renowned for its unique approach to education, focusing on nurturing and guiding boys towards a strong and healthy manhood. And one of the ways Madeline believed they achieved this was by celebrating the very essence of masculinity—the penis. The campus was adorned with numerous statues of nude young men, their sculpted bodies a testament to the school’s ideals. However, for this new statue, Madeline had a specific vision in mind, one that would truly showcase the school’s most prized asset.

“I want this statue to be a symbol of our school’s prowess,” she had announced to her staff. “We will honor the boys’ journey to manhood by showcasing the very tool that defines their virility.” The staff, well accustomed to Madeline’s unconventional methods, nodded in agreement, knowing that this would be yet another intriguing project.

Madeline had a keen eye for detail, and she was determined to find the perfect model for the statue. She wanted a boy with a penis that would make jaws drop, a true embodiment of male power. And so, she sent out a notice for auditions, inviting the senior students to participate in what would be a unique and intimate
experience.

On the day of the auditions, a line of nervous yet eager eighteen-year-old boys formed outside her office. Each one had heard whispers about the nature of the tryouts, and their curiosity, mixed with a healthy dose of bravado, had brought them here. They knew of Madeline’s reputation, and the thought of standing before her, exposing their most private parts, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Madeline sat behind her large desk, a measuring tape and a small bowl within easy reach. She wore a dark blue dress that accentuated her ample bosom, a subtle reminder of her femininity in this male-dominated environment. As the first boy entered, he couldn’t help but notice her intense gaze, and he felt his nerves
tighten.

“Relax, dear,” Madeline said, her voice like silk. “This is a safe space. I want you to be comfortable, to embrace your masculinity and show me what you’ve got.” The boy, tall and lanky, with a shy smile, nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“What’s your name, dear?” she asked gently.

“Ethan, ma’am,” he mumbled.

“Well, Ethan, let’s begin, shall we? Undress for me, and let’s see if you have what it takes.” Ethan’s heart raced as he slowly started to remove his clothes. His hands trembled as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a lean, muscular torso. He was in good shape, a result of the school’s emphasis on physical education.
As he pushed his pants down, Madeline’s eyes widened slightly. Ethan’s penis, already semi-erect, was impressive. It hung thick and heavy, the head peeking out from beneath his foreskin. Madeline licked her lips, a subtle sign of her growing excitement.

“Oh, Ethan, that’s a fine start,” she purred. “Now, let’s see how well you respond to a little stimulation.” She picked up a small, sleek vibrator from her desk, causing Ethan’s eyes to widen in surprise. “Don’t worry, dear, this will help us get an accurate measurement.”

With a flick of a switch, the vibrator buzzed to life, emitting a soft, tantalizing hum. Madeline ran the tip along Ethan’s inner thigh, making him shiver. She then gently grazed his balls with the vibrating toy, causing his breath to catch. As she slowly moved the vibrator up and down his shaft, Ethan’s penis responded, growing harder and longer with each pass.

Madeline watched with satisfaction as Ethan’s cock thickened and lengthened, reaching an impressive eight inches. She wrapped the measuring tape around the base, noting the girth, before moving it to the tip, measuring the length.

“Excellent, Ethan. You have a beautiful penis, and I can see it responds well to
stimulation.”

Ethan, now fully erect, felt a mix of pride and embarrassment as Madeline admired his manhood. She instructed him to stroke himself, and as he did, she observed the way his hand moved, the rhythm he naturally fell into.

“Good, good,” she encouraged. “Now, I want you to edge. Bring yourself to the brink of orgasm, but don’t let go just yet.”

Ethan’s eyes rolled back slightly as he complied, his hand moving faster, his breath coming in short gasps.

Madeline watched with keen interest, her own excitement building as she witnessed his struggle to control his release. After a few minutes, she stopped him.

“Very good, Ethan. Now, I want you to ejaculate into this bowl.” She held up the small container, and Ethan, his cock throbbing, aimed his pulsating head at the target. With a few more strokes, he exploded, his cum shooting out in thick, white ropes, filling the bowl with his seed.

Madeline smiled, satisfied with Ethan’s performance. “Well done, dear. You may dress now and return to your dorm. I will be reviewing all the auditions and will announce the winner soon.”

Ethan, his heart still pounding, quickly dressed and left the office, his mind reeling from the experience. Boy after boy entered Madeline’s office, each one putting on a unique display of their manhood. Some were already well-endowed, their penises standing proudly at attention, while others needed a little encouragement from Madeline’s skilled hands and toys. She measured each one, noting their length and girth, and had them ejaculate, observing the volume and consistency of their cum.

There was Sebastian, a quiet boy with a shy smile, who revealed a thick, uncut cock that grew to an impressive nine inches when stimulated. He blushed deeply as he stroked himself for Madeline, his cum spurting out in powerful bursts, coating the bowl with his essence.

Another boy, Oliver, had a lean, athletic build and a cock that was already semi-erect when he entered. With Madeline’s expert touch, it grew to a solid eight inches, and he came with a passionate groan, his body trembling as he filled the bowl with his warm, creamy load.

As the auditions continued, Madeline’s excitement grew. She had seen some truly remarkable penises, each one a work of art in its own right. But she was waiting for that one boy who would embody the essence of the statue she envisioned—the ultimate symbol of male virility.

Then, as the day was drawing to a close, the final boy entered. His name was Lucas, and he had a confident stride and a mischievous grin that hinted at a playful nature. His eyes sparkled with a hint of challenge as he took in the scene, the measuring tape and bowl on the desk giving away the nature of the auditions.
“Well, well, Lucas,” Madeline said, her voice filled with anticipation. “I’ve been waiting for you. Let’s see if you can impress me.”

Lucas smirked, his confidence growing as he began to undress. His body was lean and toned, with a light dusting of hair leading down from his navel to his groin. As he pushed his boxers down, Madeline’s breath caught. Lucas’s penis was a work of art. It was long and thick, the head a deep purple, already glistening with pre-cum. It stood proudly, reaching just below his navel when fully erect, a true testament to his virility.

Madeline’s eyes widened as she measured his length, the tape extending to a remarkable ten inches. His girth was equally impressive, making her wonder how she would capture such a magnificent specimen in a statue.

“Oh, Lucas, you have a truly remarkable penis,” she said, her voice thick with desire. “Now, let’s see your control.”

Lucas, his cock throbbing with anticipation, began to stroke himself. His hand moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, his eyes locked with Madeline’s. She watched, mesmerized, as he brought himself closer and closer to

the edge. His breathing quickened, and his hand moved faster, but he maintained control, his body trembling with the effort.

“That’s it, Lucas,” Madeline encouraged, her voice hoarse with arousal. “Show me your power, your control.

Make yourself wait, and then release with all the passion you can muster.”

Lucas’s eyes rolled back, and with a final, powerful stroke, he let go. His orgasm ripped through him, and he cried out, his body shaking as he filled the bowl with his cum. Rope after rope of thick, white liquid spurted from his cock, a testament to his virility and endurance.

Madeline was breathless, her body tingling with desire. She had found her winner. Lucas’s penis, with its impressive size and his ability to control and unleash his orgasm, was the perfect embodiment of what she sought for the statue.

“Congratulations, Lucas,” she said, her voice steady despite her racing heart. “You will be the model for our new statue. The sculptor will be here in a week, and I want you to be ready to pose for him.”

Lucas grinned, his chest swelling with pride. “I’ll be ready, ma’am. I promise to give it my all.”

As Lucas left the office, Madeline couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had found the perfect boy, and now the school would have a statue that would truly showcase its most well-endowed student. The thought of seeing Lucas’s magnificent penis immortalized in stone excited her, and she couldn’t wait for the sculptor to arrive, knowing that this would be a project unlike any other.

Little did the boys know, as they returned to their dorms, that their headmistress had a deep-seated passion for their manhood, and that this statue would be a lasting tribute to the school’s unique approach to education and the celebration of male virility.

The first chapter ends here, with the selection of Lucas as the model for the statue, but the story of Madeline’s obsession with the boys’ penises and her unique approach to education is far from over. The sculptor’s arrival and the creation of the statue will bring new twists and turns, and the boys will soon discover that their headmistress’s interest in their manhood goes far beyond mere academic curiosity.