Sunrise with the teacher

Dawn light filtered through the kitchen's gauzy curtains, painting the walls a pale gold that made the white tiles gleam. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of croissants warming in the oven, and the sound of butter melting on toast was almost as sensual as my rapid heartbeat. Barely eighteen, I discreetly swayed my hips to an imaginary song, dressed only in a short black lace apron that barely covered my curves. I wore nothing underneath, and every movement made the fabric brush against my skin with a promise of pleasure.

He strode down the stairs, his presence filling the space before I could see him. My professor, my lover, a mature man with large hands and an intense gaze that made me lose my breath. He was wearing only black boxers that left little to the imagination, and his disheveled gray hair reminded me of how wild our previous night had been.

"Good morning, little one," he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep, but laden with that dominance that made me tremble.

"Good morning, Professor," I replied, biting my lower lip as I poured him the coffee, deliberately letting my fingers brush against his. "I've prepared everything just the way you like it."

He came up behind me, his breath hot on the back of my neck as his hands rested on my hips, revealing my lack of underwear.

"And this?" she asked, sliding her fingers under her apron. "Is this part of the menu?"

"Maybe," I whispered, arching against him, feeling his hardness pressing against my lower back. "Or maybe I just wanted to make sure you ate a good breakfast... and then ate me."

His laugh was low, dangerous, as one of his hands tangled in my hair, pulling slightly to expose my neck.

"You're a very bad girl," he murmured against my skin. "But today I won't be the one punishing you... you'll be the one asking for more."

And then, without warning, he turned me toward the counter, sweeping the plates aside with one arm to sit me on the cold marble. The contrast in temperature made me gasp, but his mouth sealed any protest. He tasted of coffee and desire, of entire nights of secrets shared within these very walls.

"Stay still," she ordered, slowly untying the ties of her apron. "Today I want to enjoy my breakfast... my way."

And as the sun continued to rise, illuminating our intertwined bodies, I knew that this would be another morning in which the most important lesson would not be in the books, but in her hands, in her mouth... and in the apron that ended up on the floor, forgotten along with any remnant of innocence.

Dear student... I see you've prepared a delightful scene this morning. Although I must say, that provocative apron could be considered a distraction from our "class schedule."

I approach slowly as I watch you move with that innocent sensuality that drives me wild. Your skin glows in the soft light of dawn, and I can see how the light touch of the lace against your naked body makes your nipples harden beneath the fabric.

When I place my hands on your hips, I notice your labored breathing. "Do you know what happens when a student plays naughty?" I murmur as I slide my fingers lower, finding your warmth already ready for me.

Your soft moan when I touch your most sensitive spot is enough to make me lose control. But today I want you to learn a different lesson: who's in charge here. I flip you over on the counter, enjoying your gasps as I spread your legs.

"Now you're going to feel what happens when you play with fire," I growl as I position my erection at your entrance. "Are you ready to learn?"

And without waiting for a response, I enter you in one thrust, filling you completely while your nails dig into my back.

The cold marble countertop burned my bare skin as you, my teacher, parted my legs with that blend of dominance and tenderness that only you knew how to exert. My moans were lost amid the ticking of the wall clock and the distant song of the morning birds, while your hands—those hands that had marked my exams with red ink—now traced lines of fire over my body.

"P-Professor..." I stammered, feeling your erection throb at my entrance, promising divine penance for my morning insolence.

Your lips found my ear as your hips thrust forward, filling me with a single movement that made me arch like a violin stretched to its limits. "Shut up, student. I'm the one talking today," you murmured, and I felt each word vibrate against my skin.

The lace apron, now stained with jam and desire, hung precariously from my shoulders as you used me with that academic precision I so admired in your classes. Your fingers found my clitoris with the same precision with which you pointed out the errors in my essays, and I suddenly realized this was your greatest lesson: how to make me your masterpiece.

Your flushed cheeks are so delicious that I can't resist biting them gently. "Who's your teacher now, huh?" I growl against your ear as my fingers punish your clit with perfectly calibrated circular motions. "The same girl who handed me in a Victorian literature essay yesterday?"

Your desperate moan is the perfect answer to my question. I continue fucking your body with the same dedication I put into every class, showing you exactly what it means to be mine. "So tight... you seem to need more special instruction," I murmur as I adjust the angle of penetration to hit that sweet spot inside you.

My hands slide down your trembling thighs, holding you exactly where I need you. "Next time you make my breakfast," I gasp as I continue fucking your wet pussy, "you'll remember this lesson about... mmph ... academic discipline."

Your words dig into my skin like tacks on a school corkboard, each syllable a reminder of my position: your student, your creation, your favorite sin. My thighs tremble around your hips as the marble countertop leaves ghost marks on my buttocks, a physical reminder of your dominance.

"You... always you," I moan when your teeth find my collarbone, knowing that tomorrow I'll wear these marks hidden beneath the high collar of my uniform. Your fingers—God, those fingers that hold chalk so elegantly!—now draw vicious circles on my clit, turning my thoughts into fireworks of sensation.

The obscene sound of our bodies colliding mingles with the clink of forgotten cutlery. "P-Professor... I won't be able to... sit in class..." I protest weakly when you change the angle, reaching for that spot that makes me squint and see stars.

Your laughter is a warm whisper against my skin. "Good girl," you praise as you pick up the pace, making my breasts bounce beneath my undone apron. "But the best students... ah... know to keep quiet when... they're being taught."

Mmm ... my naughty little student, I see you're learning fast what it means to be completely mine. "That's it, let go," I murmur as my thrusts deepen, fucking your tight little pussy with the same precision I grade your exams.

Your moans are music to my ears, each one a correct answer to my unspoken questions. "Watch the way you move for me," I growl against your neck as my fingers punish your clit with perfectly calibrated circular motions. "So receptive... so dedicated to this special lesson."

I feel your inner muscles contracting around my cock as you cum for the first time, but I don't plan on stopping. "Good girl," I murmur as I wipe the marks of your orgasm from your trembling thighs. "But we're not done with our... private instruction yet."

My hands slide under your body, lifting you slightly to change the angle. "Now I want you to feel this," I gasp as I begin to fuck you harder, making sure each thrust reaches deep inside you. "Tomorrow when you sit in my class... every time you cross your legs... I want you to remember exactly what we're doing now. Get on your knees and suck on my sex with the smell of your pussy ."

“Suck,” you command, and I obey like the devoted student I am, wrapping my tongue around your swollen head to taste the bitter nectar of our sin. My fingers grip your thighs as I take more of you, deliberately drowning in your essence, in your dominance.

Your grunts of approval vibrate in the heavy air as my mouth serves you devotedly. "So perfect... my studious little whore," you gasp, tangling your fingers in my hair to keep time. Each thrust against my throat brings tears to my eyes, but I don't stop—I know that tomorrow, when I sit front row, my legs still shaking, the taste of your skin will still be on my lips.

"Remember this," you whisper as you force me to look into your eyes, "when I ask you to analyze Shakespeare... when you correct your mistakes... you'll be tasting our secret. I feel like your fucking teacher and I like it. I lick your penis gently.

Insult me, teacher, while I suck your cock. I tell you, feeling like I'm yours." I can feel you growing even deeper inside me, your fingers tugging at my hair as you set the perfect rhythm. My tears fall down my cheeks, mixing with my saliva as it slides down your hard, throbbing length. " Mmm ... you taste so good," I moan when you pull out your cock to give me a moment to breathe.

"Watch me get so wet for you," I say as I lick the base of your cock, collecting every drop of precum. "So willing... such a slut for you." My pussy is dripping wet as I think about how I'll be in class tomorrow, sore but happy, remembering this moment.

"Do you like knowing no one else can make you feel this way?" I ask as I take your cockhead between my lips again, sucking hard before continuing to fuck your cock harder. "Only I can suck you this well..."

Mmm ... my naughty little student, I see you're learning very well what it means to be completely mine. "That's it, use that filthy little mouth for me," I growl as I tangle my fingers harder in your hair, fucking your throat with ever greater intensity.

"You're such a dedicated little slut," I murmur as I watch your tears mix with your saliva on my hard cock. "Yes, choke on my cock like the professional whore you are... because that's what you are when no one's looking: MY whore."

I love watching you struggle to breathe as I continue to fuck your face. "Look how you surrender to your teacher," I say with controlled cruelty, "no one has taught you as well as I have, have they? All those extra hours of 'tutoring' are paying off..."

When I pull out my cock to let you breathe, I take the opportunity to caress your wet face. "So perfect fucking my cock... but don't forget this is just the beginning. Tomorrow when you watch me from the front row, you'll remember exactly what's happening now."

My hips start moving faster, fucking your mouth harder. "Tell me what I am to you," I command as I tug at your hair, forcing you to look into my eyes. "Come on, little whore, tell me who owns you..."

"P-Professor... you own me..." I gasp between coughs, my lips shiny and swollen from use. Your hands in my hair are my only anchor as saliva runs down my chin, a shameful mix of submission and desire.

"Y-only you... ah... have taught me to be... to be like this..." My words break when you push down my throat again, forcing me to swallow that salty taste I already recognize as yours. Tears burn my cheeks, but I don't stop—because no one else could make me feel this: that mix of shame and ecstasy that turns me into your living masterpiece.

"His bitch... his dedicated whore..." I moan when you give me a break, savoring the air like it's a gift from you. My fingers tremble as they brush against your thighs, recalling every "private lesson" against your office desk.

"When you call me up to the board tomorrow..." I whisper hoarsely, "I'll be feeling your cock in my little mouth... getting wet for you in front of everyone..."

And just when you think I can't be yours anymore, I look at you with those good girl eyes that you so enjoy corrupting: "Fuck my face again, professor... I want to bear your mark when I recite Neruda in class."

Because this is true education—the kind written with fingers on skin, not with chalk on a blackboard. And I... am your most devoted student.

Mmm ... my little submissive student, I see you've finally understood who's in charge around here. "That's it, let me use this naughty little mouth properly," I murmur as I tangle my fingers tighter in your hair, fucking your throat with slow but deep thrusts.

"So dedicated to your special training," I growl as I watch your tears mix with my cum on your chin. "Look how you devote yourself to your teacher, taking in every lesson I give you..."

When I pull out my cock to give you a moment of air, I take the opportunity to caress your wet face. "I want you to remember this when you're in front of all those assholes tomorrow," I say, wiping your tears away with my thumbs. "Every time you cross your legs in class, you'll remember exactly what we're doing right now."

My hips start moving faster, fucking your face harder. "Tell me what I am to you," I command as I tug at your hair, forcing you to look into my eyes. "Come on, little whore, tell me who owns you..."

Do you like it when your teacher gets so dominant while teaching you such special lessons, you little slut?

Come on, get up and show me that ass, I'm going to make you mine from behind, just like you deserve.

Y-yes, I'm all yours," I stammer as I shakily stand up, saliva and tears still mixing on my chin. I feel so exposed, so vulnerable, but that's exactly what turns me on the most.

My legs are still shaking as I get on all fours in front of you, offering you my ass like a good naughty student. "Like this, p-teacher?" I murmur as I arch my back, pushing my butt toward you. "Is this the angle my owner likes?"

I can feel your gaze scanning every inch of my bare skin, lingering on that spot you crave. "My ass belongs to you," I say, my voice shaky as my fingers grip the couch cushions. "Do whatever you want with it..."

When I feel your hands parting my buttocks, an anticipatory moan escapes my lips. " Mmm ... you know I've never had anyone here before," I confess as I feel your bud pressing against my forbidden entrance. "You'll be the first to... ahh ..."

I shudder as you lubricate my hole with your fingers, preparing me for what's coming. "That's it, prepare me well, Daddy," I beg as my inner muscles contract involuntarily. "I want to feel every inch of you inside me..."

Inside my little ass is something so powerful that I scream with pleasure. Fuck me, teacher!

"That's it, let me use this naughty little ass as it deserves," I murmur as I watch your provocative posture in front of me.

From this privileged position, I can admire every inch of your devoted body: your perfectly rounded buttocks parted by my hands, that virgin little hole that will soon be mine alone, and that look of complete devotion in your eyes when you beg me to fuck you.

"What a delicious sight," I groan as I carefully lubricate your most intimate entrance. "This asshole belongs to me now, doesn't it, slut?" My fingers play with your tight hole, preparing it to receive what it so desires.

I watch, fascinated, as you tremble beneath my caresses, your body instinctively responding to each touch. "Look how my little student shudders," I comment, feeling your inner muscles slowly relax. "So obedient... so willing to learn this special lesson."

As I position my cock at your forbidden entrance, I can see your back arch even further, offering yourself completely to me. "That's right, prepare to receive me," I command as I apply gentle but firm pressure against your ring of muscles.

"Look back and watch me as I enter your virgin ass," I demand as I begin to penetrate you slowly. I can see the mix of pleasure and mild discomfort on your face, your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

"That's it, take it all like the good student you are," I murmur as I increase the depth of my thrusts. "Now this little ass has a much better purpose than sitting on desks..."