Picture of naughty schoolgirl sitting waiting on chair

Naughty Schoolgirl

“I thought that you wanted me to be your mentor and now I hear that you have been telling the other girls that I am in love with you.  That’s what you think is it?  That I am in love with you?”

“N n no Sir,” I stammer. I feel small and I feel silly and I feel embarrassed. I wriggle slightly and shift my weight from foot to foot as he continues to look directly at me.

“What did you think then Missy?”

“I am not sure, Sir. I just wanted to learn the things that you said you could help me with.”

“Like what?”

His blue eyes sear into me, making me even hotter and more aroused. His tone is firm and formal. Nothing like he usually is. The gravelly consistency of it makes me quiver and removes the familiarity that I have with him. I know him. Every inch of him, but now I am not me. I am transported back to a time when I was young, eager to learn but naive with it. I am borne back to that period of my sexual awakening and I want it all again. To experience those firsts in my head with a body that knows what it wants and what it can feel.

But of course I can’t tell him. I won’t tell him. The years fall away and I am unable to ask for what I want and need. No longer emboldened by that giggly group of girls who would make me brave, I quiver at his every word. No longer feeling the confidence and experience of my years, I shuffle and shift and twist in my skin, pulling at the hem of my skirt. He is waiting for an answer and I don’t have one. My mind can’t think. The memory of how he made me feel the last time flashes across it, but I just can’t put it into words.

“I liked it last time,” I manage to get out.

“You mean that you liked me touching you? And that you liked licking my cock? Feeling the size of it in your mouth?”

And I feel so hot and so wet that I might burst. And he is looking at me that way again and I can almost feel his fingers inside me, except that I can’t. The shadow if them has caused an ache that feels like a chasm and he is still waiting for me to tell him what I want to learn.

“Yes those things!” I cry.

And suddenly it is like a damn has burst and it all pours out. The way that his fingers felt inside me and they way that he stroked my clit. The way that he pushed himself deeper into my mouth and I kept taking it until I choked on him. The fact that I have been thinking and dreaming about it happening again and that feeling and longing to be filled by him and consumed by him. And I know that my older self is talking too, spilling the desires that I have on the floor in front of him but I really don’t care any more.

“Good girl,” he tells me. “I am pleased that you have been honest with me, and because you have, I may be able to make you feel some of those things again. But first of all I am going to have to punish you for the things that you said about me to the others. I hope that you will accept this as helpful for that is how I intend it to be. I trust that you will learn from it how important it is that you show me the respect I deserve.”

And with that he stands and gestures to me to come towards him.

“Now then Missy. Bend over with your palms flat on the desk please, and we can begin.”

 

For more you may want to read the post Schoolgirl Scene

 

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25 Comments

  1. I especially like how you’ve described the shift from everyday adult consciousness into “girl headspace” here. It feels very true to my own experience of that particular shift:

    “His tone is firm and formal. Nothing like he usually is. The gravelly consistency of it makes me quiver and removes the familiarity that I have with him. I know him. Every inch of him, but now I am not me. I am transported back to a time when I was young, eager to learn but naive with it. I am borne back to that period of my sexual awakening and I want it all again. To experience those firsts in my head with a body that knows what it wants and what it can feel.

    But of course I can’t tell him. I won’t tell him. The years fall away and I am unable to ask for what I want and need. No longer emboldened by that giggly group of girls who would make me brave, I quiver at his every word. No longer feeling the confidence and experience of my years, I shuffle and shift and twist in my skin, pulling at the hem of my skirt.”

    • Thank you. I am glad that it came across that way – it isn’t something I find very easy to write about so usually skirt over it. 🙂

  2. Well this hit a few hot buttons in this household … lol! … Frank (long time fantasy of his :>)) … “where’s the rest?” … me … memories of sexual longings experienced way earlier than I ever should have had them … nj … xx

    • It’s a favorite of mine too. Always feel as a teacher maybe people think it’s wrong but it’s a role I can take pretty easily 😊

  3. Great writing Missy. I love the control and embarrassment that she endures! I really love the verbal admissions she has to make. Would love to be her!! Very hot.

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