Bella POV
School- (noun) a regular course of meetings of a teacher or teachers and students for instruction.
Several things wrong with this definition.
Firstly- There's nothing regular about it. The entire population of students in this school skips more classes then they go to. No regularity.
Secondly- The teachers don't care about us. This is probably the only school in all of Washington that actually employs Professors to teach essential level courses. The professors don't care that the kid at the back of their remedial level math class is high. Therefore, no 'regular meetings for instruction'. The kids sleep, and the professors write their fucking essays or whatever the hell they have to write.
Thirdly- I could go on forever.
But this isn't really about school per se, and when I say that I mean I'm not going to sit here and harp on about how much school sucks, and how high school is hell, that comes with a locker. Even though, it's all theses things. Not for me, but I'm sure other people have hard times.
This is about a guy. A shitload of masturbation. And then finally a little Bella lovin' of the Mr. Cullen variety.
I'm Bella. Edward is Mr. Cullen.
Bella's a student. Edward's a teacher.
I'm going to start from the beginning.
I am madly in love and want to fuck my English teacher, the delicious 28 year old Edward Anthony Cullen.
I want to suck his dick. I want him to fuck my tits. I want him to shove his cock up my aching and willing pussy. Hell, I'd even try anal, because I have a feeling that he would make it feel good.
I want him to tongue fuck me. I want him to finger me. I want to fuck him in his car. I want to fuck him in the water (UTI? Who cares.). I want to make a porno with him, and watch it religiously every day, just like I used to do with Reality Bites.
The man is a God. The messy 'just got fucked' hair, the green eyes, the stubble every so often, the soft curve of muscle underneath his shirts, the long legs, the tell tale slight tightening in the crotch area of his pants.
I get wet thinking about his pants.
Mr. Cullen is unattainable, he's a teacher, and I'm a student. He's 28, and I'm 18. Not to mention that it's kind of illegal and has extenuating circumstances.
But that does not mean that I can't harshly rub my clit in bed when I think about him.
In fact, I think it's probably encouraged. If masturbation and free thinking were banned in Forks Academy, then I'm sure a 'Never Ending Changes of Underwear and Blue Balls 101' class would have to be invented immediately.
If I wasn't allowed to touch my self several times daily to the simple vision of Mr. Cullen's hard, erect, fucking huge cock, than I would surely die. It was getting to the point where I had forbidden myself to thinking anything that involved me and him in any sort of sexual position. It proved to be too much, and the last time I pictured his messy head of bronze hair in between my legs I kind of passed out and didn't wake up for an entire day. I figured I should take it easy after that.
I am not sex crazed. I think. I mean, I go out and get drunk and get high, and I have amazing friends. I don't just sit around all day and find new positions on my bed to pleasure myself to the thoughts Mr. Cullen's shapely buttocks. I just do that after.
As I said, Forks Academy is a very prestigious school so they have us live in the dorms so that we don't get 'influenced by any outside parties'. I actually enjoy this, because I get my own room, and my own bathroom.
So, I kind of have this masturbation schedule.
Monday- Think about his hair. Missionary position.
Tuesday- Think about him smoking a cigarette. Use vibrator.
Wednesday- Think about him unbuttoning his shirt. Laying on stomach, use pillow.
Thursday- Think about his cock. Doggie position, with stimulation of all available 'holes'.
Friday- Think about his cock. Quickie, anything goes.
Saturday- His cock. Take a bath, use body sponge webby thingy (feels amazingly good when rubbed in circles).
Sunday- His cock. Use removable shower head, put it on pulse.
Period Week- His hard, thick, oozing cock. Use removable shower head, a different setting for each day.
This is why I like having my own dorm room. A bath and a removable shower head. And unlimited privacy, no parents barging in and knocking on your door when your at the pivotal point.
Well, Alice has barged in and seen my girly parts more than once. Speaking of Alice, I should probably talk about my friends, because I do have them. I'm not some repressed, sexually frustrated teenager that would give her left labia to even touch her English teacher.
Anyway…
Okay, so there's Alice. A small sprite, 4 foot 5. Spiky brown hair, a self proclaimed fashion queen. Jasper, Alice's boyfriend. 6 foot 2, a southern gentleman with that 'straight from cattle riding' wavy blond hair. Rosalie, a stunning blond supermodel, Jasper's twin sister. Emmett, Rosalie's boyfriend. Some one who I could only describe as a body builder who just might be as horny as I am.
See, I couldn't make those guys up.
I do have some admirers too. Ugly and stupid ones albeit, but they are sometimes useful when I am feeling lonely.
Mike Newton. Lovingly nicknamed 'Fuckhead'. He isn't aware of this nickname.
Tyler Crowley. Lovingly nicknamed 'Unable to Find Clitoris'. He isn't aware of this nickname.
Eric Yorkie. Lovingly nicknamed 'Is It In Yet', by almost the entire female population, not just me. He is aware of this nickname.
I don't even feel bad that I use these three unfortunate boys for my own sexual needs. I don't even feel guilty that I'm cheating on Mr. Cullen in a way, because he has that bitch Tanya Denali.
She is the epitome of fakeness. Bleach blond hair that was badly covered up with cheap red hair dye. Boring, bland blue eyes that had so much mascara around them that they looked small and piggy. But she had a hot body, even I'll admit it. I guess that was her appeal to my delicious Mr. Cullen. She was an English teacher too, so they got to spend a lot of time together, going over syllabuses or whatever the fuck teachers did together.
I fucking hated her. I made the point of making that stupid 'Boom bad-a, boom bad-a, boom' whenever she walked by. I watched too many '80s movies to be considered healthy. I'm pretty sure she hated me too, because she would always give me these dirty looks, which I would have considered normal from a teenage girl, not from a slut teacher.
But, this isn't about her, and this isn't about my friends, and this isn't about school, and this isn't about 80's movies. As I said before, this is about me wanting Mr. Cullen to do terrible, nasty, illegal things to me. And vise versa.
I'll never forget the first things he said to me when we met.
"Ms. Swan, would you fucking pay attention?" I should also mention that he has a huge potty mouth, and is more suited to be a teenager than a professor. Aaaand, I should also mention that I was in class right than and by an amazing coincidence he said the exact same words to me right then that he said when we first met.
"Right-o, Mr. Cullen." I enjoyed being coy with the man. He smirked at me and then continued reading his poem of the day. It was The Dark Roots of The Rose by Brother Antoninus. It was an alright poem, if read alone, but when the words were coming out of Mr. Cullen's smooth, sinuous, plump lips than it was an orgasm.
"Love cries regenerate and lust moans consumed,
Shaken in terror on that rage of breath.
Untrammeled still the red rose burns on
And knows no death.
Petal by crimson petal, leaf by leaf,
Unfolds the luminous core, the bright abyss,
Proffers at last the exquisite delight
Of the long kiss."
I almost came. I mean, how could I not? He said love, lust, moan, burns, luminous core, exquisite delight, and fucking kiss. Instead of just letting my self come in a quivering dripping mess on my old wooden chair, I instead thought about puppies, and my grandma, and then finally God.
It helped somewhat, but I was still on the edge.
Damn him and his alluring mannerisms.
Mr. Cullen POV
Okay, so… I hate teaching.
The boys are pricks, the girls are sluts, the teachers are boring idiots, and the school is pretentious.
Don't get me wrong, the short pleated skirts and the knee high socks and the Mary Jane's and the white blouses are a fucking turn on and all that shit… but that only works for so long.
I know, I know. I'm the pervert teacher who's too old to get laid by the teenagers. Ten years older than the oldest kids isn't terrible, just kind of frowned upon generally.
Why am I a teacher at the most elite school in all of Washington state? It's the goddamn literature. A perfectly crafted poem is like an open and waiting slut on my bed. It just doesn't get better.
I'm not a man whore who takes advantage of the girl students. I bide my time between Tanya Denali, getting sloppy head and not tight enough penetration sex… and jacking off several times a day to thoughts of Bella Swan.
I want her to suck my dick. I want to fuck her soft pillowy tits. I want to shove my rock hard and throbbing cock into her aching pussy. I would even anal fuck her, because I have the feeling that she would like it.
I want to shove my tongue up her slick cunt, I want to suck on her swollen clit. I want to shove my cock in every orifice of her body. I want to fuck her on the beach, and I wouldn't even care about diseases or chaffing sand. I want to make a porno with her and watch it with her, and then get each other off religiously.
She is ridiculous. Long creamy white legs, round perfect perky breasts straining against the buttons on her almost see through white blouse, perfect round ass, that bounces slightly when she walks. And her fucking face. Good lord. Big brown eyes that look innocent, perfect plump cherry red lips, and her fucking bone structure screams at me to touch her.
And she's smart too, I'm not just a jerk concerned with looks. For her first essay she examined and deconstructed Leonard Cohen's Suzanne to perfection. For the first time, I was aroused by penmanship. I wanted to touch her perfect body with my mind.
I had taken to teaching all of the classes I had with her sitting down. The erections could not be stopped. I hadn't even had this kind of horny endurance when I was a teenager. Now I was cumming at least three times a day. If things got particularly bad, I would say I wad going to get a coffee in the middle of class, and then I would bail to the boys bathroom on the second floor and jack my shit into the toilet.
I didn't have any self control, the longest it took to get me off was like five minutes these days. The second I pictured her plump lips wrapped around my hard and ready cock I was shaking and whimpering and ejaculating more sperm than I ever had before and just an altogether mess.
That particular time in the bathroom I yelled so loud that the janitor came in and investigated. I claimed I ate to much cayenne pepper with lunch. He sympathized greatly.
Bella Swan was killing me. If she wasn't acting all innocent and girly and virtuous, she was rubbing her ass on the chair while she adjusted herself and crossing her legs and clenching and breathing heavily and biting her pencil.
It got me so hard that I couldn't control myself anymore, I almost even started just rubbing one off in class one day when she was acting particularly horny and naughty. Mike Newton coming up and asking me how to spell 'wisdom' was enough to make me loose my erection.
And I'm not an idiot. I can see the way that girls look at me and I know what they're thinking. And I am almost positive Bella thinks the same, but how am I supposed to act on that? I can't be all 'Hey Bella, wanna fuck? Even though I'm your teacher and will probably try to stick my tongue in your ear at every available opportunity.'
That shit wouldn't fly.
So, I settled for staring at her and imagining her ass in the air as I gave her a rim job. Yeah, I was a dirty old man, and she was a hot little slut who was begging for my dick… well, in my mind at least.
I was so infatuated with her that I even remember the first thing I ever said to her:
"Ms. Swan, would you fucking pay attention?" It started many of the kids at first because they had never really heard a teacher say anything worse than 'hell' or something, but they quickly became accustomed to it. I think it made me even cooler to the group of adolescents, the bad ass teacher who looks like a good fuck. And believe me, I am. I could make Bella scream my name seven ways from Sunday. Whatever the hell that means.
But anyways, that's what I was said to her as she was wiggling around in her seat and staring at her desk and blushing. There was no mistaking that she was thinking about fucking, girls are so obvious when they are. Thinking that Bella thinking about sex made me think about fucking her. I couldn't sit down, so I just continued to pace the front of the room with my beaten up copy of "The Norton Introduction to Literature: Poetry" in hand, I was reading The Dark Roots of The Rose by Brother Antoninus, and I could practically hear the girls soaking their panties. But the only panties I was concerned with were Bella's. I was almost positive that she was lace boy shorts girl, I just needed visual confirmation to be sure.
I am a horny cocky mother fucker, but I never claimed I wasn't. I stared at Bella the whole time I read the somewhat smutty poem, and she was staring blankly at something. Damn her for not paying attention to me. I could feel my erection growing and I almost started crying when I heard the bell ring.
"No homework." I mumbled as the students filed out. Bella was the first to leave, booking it out of the classroom as Mike fucking Newton chased after her, visibly panting.
Gross children.
I looked at the clock and saw that I had twenty minutes before Tanya was coming to meet me at my office, so I figured I could get in a few jacking sessions before I had to live through inane chatter at a sub par restaurant.
I practically ripped my pants off as I ran to my personal office, adjoined to my classroom. The door locked, and there was no windows, so it was the perfect sanctuary. I didn't even bother taking off anything, only pushing my pants and boxers down so they rested by my knees and started jacking like my life depended on it. I was oozing pre-cum, I didn't even have to use lotion anymore like I used to before I met Bella.
My first orgasm racked through my body by just thinking her name. And about lotion, and how she would spread it into her skin perfectly, moisturizing very available patch of skin.
I was hard again, I started going slower trying to prolong the pleasure, but within seconds I had to keep stopping so I wouldn't explode all over the place.
"Fuck… Bella…" I groaned, my head falling back on the couch. My hand was moving fast now as I pictured her undressing for me. I came again, and didn't even stop when my dick was almost too sensitive to touch and I was getting soft. I just used the sperm that had dripped onto my hands as extra lubrication and just kept jacking myself for all I was worth.
I came again, groaning and crying out so loudly that I had to shove a pillow over my face to shut myself up. After I had calmed down I looked at the clock, I still had seven minutes left. After some deliberation, I decided to clean up instead of going for another session.
As I wiped the copious amounts of solidifying white jizz off my thighs, dick, and hand I quickly pulled my pants up and fixed my hair in the mirror above my leather couch. As I looked at myself in the mirror I started to feel guilty. She was only a kid, and I was a horny old guy that wanted to fuck her senseless. It was then that Tanya knocked on my door. I should be satisfied with her, she let me do stuff to her and shit, and she was hot to most people.
But she did this annoying thing were she would talk like she was in a porno when I fucked her. It was kind of funny, I had to stifle my laughs in my hand sometimes when she really got going.
She would say things like, "Fuck me big boy!" and "I am so naughty!" But she would say it all breathlessly with this red face, while she rode my cock, and it was just hilarious. She thought my shaking was from extreme pleasure but it was from restrained laughter.
I had better orgasms that took two minutes to achieve than she could give me from an hour of full coitus. It was getting to be kind of embarrassing that I was fantasizing about a student while having sex with an eligible teacher slut, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
"Where are we going babe?" Tanya asked as I opened the door and walked out. Annoying habit number two: she calls me 'babe'.
"I don't know… the movies?" Annoying habit number three: she doesn't plan ahead.
"Sure thing, there's the new Cameron Diaz one that I want to see." She flipped her red- blonde hair over her shoulder. Annoying habit number four: she's not a brunette.
Okay, so basically all this story is going to be is smut, I promise, as God is my witness that I will have smut in every chapter… I'll try to think of a plot and all that shiz to if it's really necessary.
Please review!
