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I [F]23 matched with a former student [M]19 on Tinder and had rough, degrading sex with him

Mar 14, 2024

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cheng cuiping

Brock and I left things the morning of my last post with a promise we'd be in touch. We exchanged phone numbers and said our awkward goodbye, which was in such stark contrast to the constant kissing, touching, and ass slapping of the night before. I think it dawned on both of us that we'd just been involved in an incredibly taboo tryst, and so we were a little more mellow as we got in our cars and proceeded to our respective classes. I honestly didn't expect to hear anything back from him; I thought it was a one-night stand ordeal because of the way the situation had played out, and the thought made me a little sad. I liked Brock. Liked him a lot. He had been a stellar student under me, and a more-than-stellar partner 'under me' as I rode him the night prior.

But that's the way life goes sometimes, I thought as I got to school and adjusted my clothes, still feeling the sex on my body and worrying the students would be able to somehow sense it too. If they did, though, no one said anything. I tried to focus on teaching, but it was difficult, because all I could focus on was Brock and the wonderful sensations he had left me with. I wound up texting him during my lunch break to see how his day was going. Desperate, I know, but what can I say. I was down bad.

He texted me back and we started up a comfortable conversation. He then told me that he'd like to see me again, and my heart skipped a beat. "Like tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah. Like tonight," he replied.

I'm not ashamed to say that I spun around in my chair and kicked my legs into the air in the empty classroom, feeling the heat rising to my cheeks. He wanted to see me again. And then it dawned on me: of course he wanted to see me again. The night prior had probably been a fantasy come real for him, getting to lay his teacher. Not only that, but he got to lay a teacher who proceeded to fawn allover his cock like she was addicted to it. And now he had a chance to do it all over again.

Night falls and he comes over to my apartment. I greet him by wrapping my arms up and around his neck, kissing him deeply. His hands go to my waist without hesitation as he pushes me into the living room and tries to unbutton my pants through kisses, kicking the door closed. He's assertive with what he wants, unzipping my jeans and pulling them down roughly, revealing my black panties underneath. Toying with the fabric hiding my pussy from view, he reaches his hands underneath the back of my panties and grabs my ass with both hands, all while necking me. I just hold onto him, whispering into his ear, "Brock. Oh god, I've been thinking about this all day, Brock."

"You were thinking about having your way with me while you were teaching your students? Naughty, naughty Ms. Smith," he says, running the tip of his tongue up along my neck and kissing my cheek. "Who's the next senior you're going to go after when you're done with me?" he teases.

I laugh and shake my head. "I'm not a cock chaser," I say, knowing I'm a filthy liar. I'm not at all shy to casual hookups. But even so, I seriously don't intend for this 'sleeping with former students' thing to become a running habit. Even if, so far, it has been incredible.

"Mmhmm, sure you're not," he says, using his foot to push my pants down the rest of the way and kick them aside as I hop out of the tangled mess. His hands are still on my ass, fingers pressed hard into the plump flesh. Even now, I'm shocked at the confident and brash nature he's showing with me, so different form the student I taught in high school. Not that he didn't have confidence, he justdidn't have the "I'm going to screw this teacher until she cums" levels of confidence he's exuding. There's a difference.

He presses up against me and I can feel his cock throbbing against my pelvis through his jeans.

"Somebody's eager," I purr into his ear, but even at my words he doesn't really move aside from the kisses he's leaning down and planting on my neck. He just seems content to stand there with his fingers dug into my ass, boner pressed up against the denim of his pants, kissing me. Not that it isn't incredibly hot. It is. But I'm waiting for the next move for what feels like minutes, and it never comes.

"Um, Brock," I say, trying to relocate his head from my neck, and he pulls back and looks at me like he's got the world in his hands. Like everything's going to plan. I giggle as his eyes work over my face. "The necking is nice and all, but don't you want to get a little more… physical?"

He gazes into my eyes and gives a gruff scoff of a laugh I don't think a nineteen-year-old should be capable of giving. "Honestly," he says, taking his time with the words, like he's got to be sure he says them correctly, "I kind of wanted you to beg me for it." And then his right hand lets go of my left asscheek slightly so he can caress the skin.

I go red in the face and stutter out an "Oh" as I think about what he just said. He wants me to beg for him? To beg for his cock? I… I mean I've done that before, and it's not nearly the most degrading thing I've ever done, but to do it to a former student just pushes all the buttons in my brain that mix me up and make me feel conflicted. I unwrap my arms from around his neck unconsciously and I can see from the frown that forms on his face maybe he's regretting asking me to do this.

"Ms. Smith, it's not like you have to—"

"Shut up for a minute," I say sternly, and he goes quiet. "I just need a second to think." Thinking is something I'd been doing precious little of over the past day, so my brain just needed a chance to catch up to the rest of my body. I didn't mean to snap at him, but maybe it was an instinctual thing from having had him as a student? I don't know. Either way, I feel his cock throb at my words, and I gaze up, seeing him looking sheepish.

"Really?" I tease, my mind finally catching up to the rate our bodies were set to go at, smiling. "That's what gets your cock going now? A reprimand from your teacher?"

"I mean…" he says, releasing one of my cheeks and rubbing the back of his head before touching the stubble on his chin and sighing, "I guess I can't really lie when I'm pressed up against you, can I?"

"Shut your mouth," I say again, harsh, and he removes his other hand from underneath my panties. I wish they were still there, but I'm having fun with this now. Oh how the tables have turned.

"Yes ma'am," he says, putting his hands at his sides.

"So, you thought you could just fuck me and then get me to beg to take your cock? You think that's how this relationship is going to work, huh?"

"No ma'am."

"Don't lie to me," I snap, stepping towards him and forcing him against the door. "Don't lie to your teacher, Brock." My voice is angry, but my hands are on his pants now, working his button and zipper like he did for me. I open his jeans up and get a handful of the top of his underwear. "You know the rules of my class," I say before yanking the underwear down with as much force as I can muster. Then I see the small grin form on his face, the way his jaw works slightly to the left and his lip curls up, and I know we're on the same page again.

I push him again so that his back is resting hard against the door and turn around, bending over and placing my hands on my legs. "Use that worthless cock for something good," I say, my words biting. I feel his hands trembling as he bunches up the fabric of my panties and moves them to the side, guiding his stiff cock to my pussy. Before he has a chance to push it in, however, I force myself backwards so that I'm still in control.

He grunts and, I think, makes a move to slap my ass, which he seems to love doing, but he stops himself and lets his hand fall, palm against the door as I start moving back and forth, his cock sliding in and out of me, rubbing me in just the right way that makes me want to call out, to sing. But I'm playing bad cop right now, so no singing for me.

I pound away at him for several minutes, our bodies banging against the wood of the door, once again providing a show, this time to any poor neighbors who might happen to be passing by. And then I snarl at him to grab my arms, which he leans forward and does, removing them from their resting position on my legs. He holds me up, pulling my arms behind my back and using his leverage to pull me back onto his cock as I slide forward. We get into a healthy rhythm again.

"Don't think this means you're in charge here," I bark between the noise of his genitals slapping against mine. "I say when we go, and I say when we stop."

"Yes ma'am," he whines, and I look behind me to see he's tossed his head back, his mouth slightly ajar. "Please let me continue, Ms. Smith."

Oh, he's down bad too.

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We continue like that, me adjusting my arms when they get uncomfortable, but Brock holding me up with just the grip he's got on my forearms. I stand up a bit so I'm nearer to him as I'm starting to quiver with the feeling of needing to cum.

"Is that pitiful cock going to cum soon?" I ask, my breathing giving away my heat and closeness.

"I can't—" he sucks in air through gritted teeth. "I can't hold back much more, Ms. Smith."

"Grab my throat," I command as one of the hands falls away from my arm and wraps around my shoulder, his hand clasping my throat. I'm standing tall enough that I don't have to worry about falling over at this point, so I use my free hands to grab at his muscled legs, digging my fingernails into his flesh and causing him to grunt in pain, his hand tightening around my neck. I smile as his thrusts are getting more desperate, losing their rhythm. He's really close.

"Fine, fine," I say, "but you're going to be licking some pussy when this is done, because I'm not finished. Hope you enjoy the taste of your own cum." The words leave my lips before I realize how dirty they are, but it pushes Brock over the edge as he bucks forward, wrapping an arm around my stomach from behind and again tightening his grip on my neck so he's choking me a little. I gasp as I feel him spurt forward, releasing a torrent into my pussy, making pathetic little noises of "Ms. Smith.I'm sorry, Ms. Smith" as he fills my cunt with cum.

He's panting as he finishes and pushes me forward enough to get his cock freed. We stand there, him still holding my neck and stomach, long enough for my panties to slip back over my pussy. Long enough for his cum to start coming out of me, staining the fabric still wet from when I was anticipating his arrival, touching myself.

"Christ, Chloe," he says as I reach a hand down to my crotch, letting some of him drip onto my fingers, looking over my shoulder, and bringing it up to my mouth to suck on. He looks at me and releases my neck but runs the fingers on his other hand along my stomach. It tickles slightly, and I have to stifle a laugh as I'm still trying to keep up the touch girl act.

"Get down on the floor," I say, pointing towards the ground over near the couch where he had been so casually resting last night. I have to think for a moment how far I want to take this 'angry teacher' shtick. Taking off his clothes, since I had only lowered his pants and underwear before we fucked, he walks over, a little cum leaking from his cock onto the carpet, and flops down on the ground, sitting.

I wonder: am I really going to make him eat me out after he's finished inside me? Isn't that too degrading and disgusting? For me? No. For a nineteen-year-old former student? Maybe. I wrestle with this thought for a moment and then make the mistake of asking, nervously "are you sure you want to do this?"

He gets a frustrated look on his face and shakes his head. "Don't ask me that. Don't ask me what I want. Just tell me what to do, Ms. Smith."

"Oh, okay," I say, embarrassed. I'm not usually the aggressor when it comes to sex. Not like this at least. I clear my throat and shake out the nerves before looking at him angrily. "You made a mess, Brock, and you're going to clean it up."

"Yes, Ms. Smith," he smiles in response as I put my fingers in the sides of my panties and slide them down my legs, kicking them off to the side. His eyes are magnetically attracted to my pussy, and I smirk as I walk towards him, taking a foot and pushing him from the sitting position onto the ground. I get down with my knees on other side of him and sidle up over his face before setting myself down, my hands on my ass, my cunt making contact with his mouth. I wonder if I have to command him to do anything, but before I can say a word, his tongue is deep within me, eating me out despite the fact he came inside not minutes before. I'm deeply turned on by the whole ordeal, and it doesn't take me long for the pleasure to kick up.

His hands come up to my hips and grip me as I wiggle them back and forth, sitting on his face. "Good boy. You know how to serve your teacher," I say to him, his eyes closed, focusing on nothing but eating my pussy. "You like eating your own cum out of my pussy, you dirty sl-slut?" I chastise, but my voice is starting to waver, and I can't even make it through the word 'slut' without stuttering.

His fingers dig into my hips, and he pulls me down harder, licking and sucking at my pussy until my own fingers are digging into my ass. I release one hand and start toying with a nipple, rolling it between my fingers as I keep verbally taunting him, but through it all he just accepts my words and works harder. I look back over my shoulder and see that his cock is standing at attention again, and I wish I was positioned to put it in my mouth. I bring one of my breasts up instead and start sucking and biting at it.

Before long my time's up, and I start to shake again, letting go of my own body to hold onto his head and stabilize myself. "Fuck yes," I yell, "make your teacher cum all over your worthless fucking face." I'm not a squirter, but he knows when I cum, as my muscles spasm and I start gasping, releasing his head and holding a hand over my mouth to stifle my cries.

When I've settled down, I scoot down his body until my backside is pressed against his cock, and I lean down to kiss his dirty, mess of a mouth. My kisses fall down his neck and wind up on his chest, as I toy with his nipples and lick off some of the sweat he's worked up. And then, without warning, he takes his hand and slaps me upside the ass, grabbing on and giving a vice grip to my rear.

I look at him with mock outrage, like how could he be bold enough to do something like that when I'm in charge, but he only smiles up at me from the floor and puts a finger to his lips.

"That was… incredible, being yelled at like that by you, but now we're going to do things my way," he says, sitting up and pushing me aside. I'm too stunned by his sudden change in demeanor to protest, or do anything other than sit there, really. He stands up and turns towards me, leaning over and picking me up as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

I didn't appreciate just how strong Brock was until that moment, as he puts an arm under my back and under my knees and carries me to the bedroom, kicking the door open and then throwing me onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, as if he couldn't care less about me. He turns around and shuts the door, and I start to say something, but he's back in front of me, putting a hand over my mouth and pushing me down onto the bed.

His head comes down towards my ear and he nips at my lobe playfully before whispering, "You're going to do what I want to do now, and you're going to be quiet about it like a good little slut, Ms. Smith, okay?"

My eyes go wide as he gives a hoarse laugh, his breath making my body tingle, but I find the awareness to nod my head under his hand.

"Good," he says, getting comfortable on top of me and moving into me in one swift motion, taking me missionary style. His thrusts have the force of anger behind them, and I can't tell if he's actually upset about being made to eat me out or not. I've had hatefucks with exes before, and this doesn't feel like that, but there is aggression to it.

"Damn, you've got a tight pussy, Ms. Smith. Wish I'd had the balls to man up and take your cunt sooner," he says as we bounce on the mattress. He's holding himself up by his arms as he poundsaway at me, and I can tell that if this keeps up, I'm going to be very sore in the morning. A good kind of sore, but sore nonetheless. "I bet you would have given it all to me when I was still your student. You seem like that kind of a whore."

"I. Am. Not. A. Whore," I say defiantly through the rough sex, playing into his little game and trying to create some tension. You've got to be in the right mindset to enjoy mean dirty talk, and luckily I've had enough of it throughout my life to be comfortable switching into the role of 'wilting flower who's being verbally assaulted' easily.

"Whore, slut, bimbo. All words that can be used to describe you, Ms. Smith," he says, pulling out of me and kneeling on the bed. He grabs me, twirls me around, and manipulates my body so my face is flush with the bedspread and my ass is in the air. He takes his thumb and, after grabbing my behind, sticks it in my ass, sending jolts up my spine.

"How many men have you fucked in your life, I wonder?" he says. "I can tell you've taken it up the ass before. No shocker there." Then his finger is out of my ass, and his weight is on top of me. I try to move but find myself completely incapacitated by him as he steers his cock towards my pussy. Some people don't like being completely dominated, unable to move or have any say in the sex, but I'm not one of those people.

My hands grip the bedsheets as the sounds of his thrusts against my backside echo throughout the room. "Goddamn, Ms. Smith," he grunts through the sex, "I don't think a teacher's pussy should be this eager for a student's cock."

His words get me hot and bothered, and I find myself tightening up as he mercilessly slams away. I'm just grateful he chose to fuck my pussy tonight instead of my ass, because I don't think I would have been able to handle the strength behind his sex.

He picks up the speed with which he's thrusting into me, and I start to make little noises here and there, sounding like some timid little mouse, which in the moment I feel like.

"If you can't take anymore, feel free to tap out," he says, leaning down and running his tongue along my neck. "I won't stop, but at least I'll know you can't handle this cock."

"Fuck you," I say against his bravado, or mumble, as my mouth is partially obscured by being pressed into the bed.

"What was that you said? 'Fuck me harder?' If that's what you want, Ms. Smith." And even though I didn't think it was possible, he's slamming away at me tougher than before. I open my mouth and cry out in a mixture of raw, aching pain and ecstasy, because his cock just feels too damn good. He's grunting and breathing hard, and I know he's close once again, but he doesn't warn me when he's about to cum, doesn't ask me if it's okay, he just does it. I lie there like a ragdoll, unable to really do anything as he erupts and pumps my pussy full of cum once more.

"God damn. God damn!" he laughs wickedly, thrusting into me again and again for good measure, and I just lie there and moan. Finally, when he's finished, he pulls out of me and rolls over onto his back, sighing. I feel incapable of moving, my pussy raw and sore, my body still shivering from the whole ordeal, and Brock turns his head over to me, looking me in the eyes. He raises a hand and cups my cheek before leaning forward and kissing me.

"You okay?" he asks gently, to which I give a meek nod of the head. He envelops me in a hug then and holds me close, caressing my back and kissing my forehead. "You did so great," he says quietly, running a hand across my cheek, his thumb lingering and rubbing my nose, and I smile. We lie there for a long while, him holding onto me, me resting and feeling the aftermath of the rough sex all throughout my body. And eventually, peacefully, we fall asleep.

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