[MF] – The Student Who Teased Me for Three Years: Part 4 – “You Know Exactly What You’re Doing”

"I'm officially not your student anymore."

I didn't answer right away. Waited a couple days. Then we started talking — casually at first. But the subtext was obvious. It wasn't long before the flirting started again. Her favorite hour? Around midnight.

One evening, I asked if she wanted to meet. She gave me a time. A quiet bar, not far from my place.

She showed up late. On purpose I guess. Simple outfit — but clearly chosen. Light summer dress, just tight enough. Subtle makeup. The kind of look that says "I know what you're thinking."

We talked like adults at first. Then like people who knew damn well what was really happening.

When I teased her about her "well-chosen placement," she grinned.

— "I'm sure I'll enjoy it." — "No regrets about picking me as your tutor?" — "Not even one. You were perfect. Maybe… a little too perfect."

Silence. She sipped her drink slowly. Her leg brushed mine.

I leaned in.

— "We're not staying here all night, are we?" She hesitated. Then answered calmly: — "No. I don't think we are."

So I drove her to my place

She was quiet in the car. But once we got inside, something shifted.

I stepped toward her. She backed up slightly. Innocent, almost. That half-smile she always wore when she was playing dumb.

— "Stop pretending." — "I'm not pretending." — "You know exactly what you're doing, Alexandra." — "Maybe I like when you say it like that…"

I closed the distance. She dropped her gaze… then slowly got on her knees.

Her fingers toyed with my belt. She unfastened it, pulled down my pants, and released my cock, already hard from the bar. She just looked at it for a second. Then ran her tongue along the shaft — slow, teasing — from base to tip.

Then she took me in her mouth.

Her lips wrapped tightly around me, her tongue swirling, her hand stroking what didn't fit. She was focused, wet, perfect.

But I didn't let it go too far.

— "Get up. Now."

I grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the couch. Her dress came off in one motion — nothing underneath. She lay back, thighs open, eyes dark with anticipation.

I went down on her. Slowly. Thoroughly. She arched under my tongue, biting her lip, already trembling.

— "You're… you're too good." — "Shut up."

Then I entered her.

She gasped — not from pain, but from the sudden release of tension. I fucked her hard, deep, slow at first, then faster. Her nails dug into my back. She tried to stifle her moans, but they kept escaping.

I flipped her over. Bent her forward. Grabbed her hair. — "You like that?" — "Yes… yes, I love it when you fuck me like that…"

She came once. Then again. Her legs were shaking.

I moved us to the floor, lifted her legs over my shoulders, and kept going. She took it all, breathless, wrecked, completely open.

When I was about to finish, I pulled out. She dropped to her knees again, without a word.

I came all over her. Her face, her lips, her chest. She smiled through it.

The Ride Home

She got dressed in silence. I drove her home.

In the car, she finally spoke.

— "That was…" — "I know."

Pause.

— "You're always so direct." — "And you're always dangerous."

She smiled, her hand on the door handle. — "Goodnight, sir." — "Goodnight, Alexandra."

She stepped out.

I watched her disappear into the building. Didn't drive off right away. And I couldn't help but feel lost...

So as of today I still feel lost...