Slutty confessions

Today is a busy Summer school day at Summerville High — sounds like a pun but it's not. And I'm heading to my office as the school's guidance counselor, in my highrise boots, some net fabric that stretches all the way up past my aired pussy and a short jacket that shows most of my cleavage.

I'm late, but it's one of the perks of my job. No one questions are asked when and if I arrive for work.

Not when I and the principal have gone a couple rounds, that is.

A low paying job alright, but hey, I've never had any aspirations to be the next Jeff Bezos or have my name on some world's richest women list.

Moreover, the student debt I accrued in College shattered my dreams.

Enough about me.

So, I'm walking through the hallway and I see two boys bullying some kid with freckles and glasses.

It's class hours and no one else is in the hallway, which makes me wonder where the heck the hall monitor disappeared to.

“Hey!” I yell in their direction.

The bullies don't stick around long enough to know if I have questions probably about their identities or something else and they bolt to the end of the hallway, disappearing into a corner.

I shake my head and walk towards the frail looking boy.

Probably a nerd or something.

He clutches his books tightly and gingerly stands up.

I can see one of the eyepieces of his glasses is cracked as I observe him from head to toe.

But as he stands, I notice the gaze of his eyes aren't on my face.

No, no.

They're actually trained on my would be cleavage.

I raise a brow and clear my throat, slightly startling him and moving the attention of his eyes to my stern face.

I was used to being ogled, even by teens here at the school.

But this riffraff thought he was that kinda teen who had the privilege of moving with that crowd.

He was cute, but not up to the standard of those allowed to ogle at my leaves-nothing-to-the-imagination style of dressing.

“Who are you and what are you doing in the hallway at this time?” I ask him.

He avoids looking straight back into my eyes. Rather he dances his gaze all around the hallway before finally seeming to come to his senses.

“Oh, sorry. I'm uh, Trevor.”

Trevor? He didn't look like no Trevor and I instantly believe he is lying.

So I scoff.

“I'm er...”

He shuffles through his books and picks one. Some purple hardcover book and opens it up.

My eyes quickly scan through it and I understand it is a schedule he had scribbled somewhere in the middle of the pages.

“I'm a new student and I have to be in—”

“Chemistry.”

I interrupt him, holding him by the hand and dragging him the other direction — the way I came from.

Chemistry class had already begun.

I dump him there and I'm finally able to reach my office, finally settling in my swivel chair.

Students rarely showed up to have someone who didn't care listen to their problems, so good riddance I thought.

Little did I know that I wouldn't be able to guess who would decide to show up in my office at the end of the school day...

“Why...” I adjust the uneven name tag on my desk and straighten in my chair, my boobs pushing out“...are you here?”

“Today was a good first day and, and...”

“Huh?”

I wasn't sure what the kid was getting at.

“I'm not your Mum, kid. You should head home. School's done for the day.”

I never expected that the words that would leave his very mouth in reply would leave me dumbfounded in my seat.

He avoids eye contact before that, but the look in his eyes as they meet mine is something I haven't seen in a very long time.

Raw desire.

“I like your boobs. They remind me of Mrs Carson from my former school.”

The state of confusion I'm in keeps me from saying anything and so he continues.

“She used to let me suck them. After school, just like right now.”

He looks around the office then, as if he is just coming in.

I don't know what it is about this kid, but I can feel my pussy water as the words leave his mouth.

“I—I...”

I try to say something, but all that comes out are stutters.

“Like really suck her boobs. The entire, suck, nibble and flick combo. I eat her out too. Suck and flick and insertion of fingers, letting her warmt envelope them.”

“Her husband could never satify her and so she turned to me. Not because I wanted it, but because she couldn't help it. Just like now...”

He gives my body another look over and the air is tense.

I swallow hard and ask him, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Mrs Carson asked the same until I told her about how I fucked two female teachers in the school I went to before the one she worked in. A crazy threesome that had everything.”

The smug look on his face tells me stories I don't want to know.

“You what?”

I can feel my nipples go hard and throb with the desire to be nibbled on by him alone.

The atmosphere in the room is murky as fuck too, almost as if I am under a spell and can't help it.

Yes, I feel spellbound by his presence and his words. Something I can't explain.

My legs start to twitch under the desk and my thighs close together on their own accord. I start to slowly rub them together to manage the build up of my wetness.

“At first, I made them fuck each other while I watched. It was fun watching them eat each other out and fist till their cunts showed off a deep shade of pink. All the frictions and orgasms...”

He looks at me then and cocks his head to the side.

“You're wet down there, aren't you?”

“I don't know what you're talking about young man.”

It was all inappropriate, but I don't want it to stop.

I know he knows that too.

And I know he knows he has me too.

Like a predator, cornering its prey.

It is just a matter of minutes before something happens.

I acknowledge then that this is a very different person to the timid teen I had seen being bullied in the hallway earlier that day.

Almost as if catching sight of my cleavage had transformed him into this bold, cocky, no-bars-held-back, I-want-to-fuck-you teen.

It shows in his entire demeanour.

“Wanna know what I did next?”

He interrupts my thoughts.

I don't answer and he continues.

“I strapped both their pussies to vibrators and fucked their assholes, slowly and methodically.”

There is a way the words roll off his tongue, out in the open that makes me squirm a bit and I purse my lips together to hide it.

But the next thing I know, I feel one of his legs.

His extended leg is under the desk, attempting to take a swipe at my pussy.

“What are you doing?”

I half protest and push myself closer to the desk, slightly parting my legs invitingly.

“I'm doing what...”

With each word that leaves his mouth, he hovers his foot over my pussy, but he doesn't touch it.

It riles me up a little, but I stay calm.

“...what I did at my cousin's birthday.”

“Her father owns this big agricultural firm and I sometimes help to plant,” he emphasizes on the word ‘plant’ and I don't know why, “stuff in their house.”

“I'd always liked her. And she knew that. So the night of her birthday when we were both wasted, we started something.”

“What did you both start?”

My breathing is ragged at this point as he keeps hovering his foot over my aired pussy.

“We were somewhat like this. But on the bed and naked,” he laughs.

“I used my foot to stroke her pussy and she used hers to stroke my dick.”

It isn't really surprising, but in all my years of fucking, this is a first.

“We came that way the first time. And then we dove into a straight up hard fuck, going at it for hours. Deep into the night.”

He rests his head back on the chair he is seating on, probably basking in the feeling of his own story.

But this makes his hovering foot touch my pussy and I let out a little moan.

He chuckled and I see that he did that on purpose.

“Are you horny...”

He looks at the name tag on my desk and completes the question, “Miss Natalie?”

I push my swivel chair backwards, back enough for him to see my pussy as I spread my legs.

“You said something about planting just now,” I say.

“Now come plant your dick in here...”