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Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
These are stuff which are copied and paste from what I found in the internet.
Hence if any of the stories that I post here have been post before in other threads.. Please do forgive me. Meanwhile for yr reading pleasure Cheers PH |
#2
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Straight: Student and Teacher:
A Hot Discussion After Class Author: Blood_Rose The moment you walk in class, I immediately feel my panties get slightly wet. I stare at you for the rest of the class period, and squeeze my thighs shut, trying to ignore the painful throbbing of my pussy. I see you watching me cautiously, noticing my stares at your crotch...and not soon after you have to sit down to hide the bulge of your pants. I hide a smile. The class is over, and you call my name, and my heart stops and warm liquid fills between my thighs. I blush but wait till the rest of the class is gone to meet you at your desk. I walk slowly, trying hard to ignore delicious ache of my pussy, to calm the rapid beat of my heart. You get up slowly and casually go to door, shut it, and lock it. I tremble. "Desiree..." you, Mr. Byron, begin. "Yes, sir?" "Is there something bothering you?" you ask, your expression concerned. "No, sir." I whisper. "Then why is it that your homework is never done, and you keep failing my tests?" "I don’t know, sir." I know I am blushing furiously and look away. You keep looking at me and say, "Is there something distracting you?" I remain quiet, head down. You place your hand against my chin and tilt my face up. "Desiree, am I distracting you?" I swallow then say, “Yes, sir. Your--c...err...you are very distracting." You smile. "What were you going to say?" I feel my face heat up some more, if possible. "Your cock, sir. It’s very distracting....I can't help but wonder how big it is." "Desiree, you are having bad thoughts about me," you state. "Yes, sir." I feel myself trembling harder, tears in my eyes. "Aren't you a little young to be having such thoughts?" "I'm 18! I'm not a little girl, you know!" I say angrily then shyly look back down. "Sorry.... I just mean...." You take my hand, press it against your lips and whisper, "You have been a bad girl, Desiree... thinking about all these lusty thoughts." I hear you chuckle. "We have to do something about that..." You give my palm a quick lick then lower it towards your chest, near your heart and I feel your heart beating as quick and hard as my own. I let out a soft moan. "Please, sir. Do something!" You grin, and bring me to your arms and kiss me. On the lips gently then sticking your tongue inside. I moan and pull you closer. |
#3
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
We kiss each other passionately and explore each other’s bodies.... you reach for my breasts and then rip the white shirt away from my body. Your warm, wet, mouth reaches toward my nipples as your hands rise and cup my bottom. Then move the short skirt and caress my bottom, finding the plain white panties and moving it smoothly down my body.... then rub my ass a little more before reaching to touch my pussy then gently touching my clit.
I gasp at the erotic sensations but I want to pleasure you...I need to feel you.... so I remove your coat, and shirt.... then kiss your upper chest...and lower...and lower.... I unzip the zipper and slowly reach inside. I groan, feeling my hand touch the hot, soft skin of your dick. I lower to my knees and take it out and began to lick it like a lollipop. Licking at the tender tip, and down the side of your shaft, right to the base of your balls. I hear, and see like you are liking it...and I continue this, then place your whole cock in my mouth.... And suck hard. I reach down, and touch myself, feeling the wetness of my sex, but soon stop, wanting to give you my whole attention...Up and down....slow then fast....and faster still.....taking it all in. I feel you about to cum and I caress your balls, not wanting you to stop...but cum inside my mouth...but you do stop. You pull me up and kiss my lips before sitting me on your desk and opening my thighs and placing your mouth against my wet, pussy. I scream in pleasure and dig your head deeper, not wanting you to stop, feeling your tongue run up and down. Then suddenly I feel a finger enter me. I gasp and stare down at you. Your dark eyes stare back at mine as you continue to suck my pussy and gently being to finger fuck me. “Ooooh! Please!” You moan my name against my pussy and start frantically licking my clit. I arch my back and throw my head back and let out a soft scream as I feel you enter a second finger inside. Right as I feel my muscles tightening, you pull back, breathing heavy and place your cock right against my dripping, wet pussy. You move my hips upward, lifting my skirt to my waist, then shove me forward, and open my legs wide. We are both gasping for breath and sweat slides down our slick bodies. You rest your forehead against mine and begin to shove your cock inside my tight pussy, going in, in, in….inch by inch and so deep. Once you rest as far as you can go you slowly pull back and enter me yet again. Slowly…. "Oh, sir! Oh, my..." You look at me and you kiss me. Kissing me hard enough to bruise, entering your tongue, making me taste my own juices. And you begin to move faster, grabbing my thighs and hips forcefully. "Is this what you wanted?" You manage to question as you move in and out of me. "Yes....YES!!! Oh, don't stop...fuck me, fuck me harder!" You groan and stare at my breasts bouncing up and down. You reach for my left breast with your mouth and close in one erect nipple as your other hand begins to caress my right breast. I bite my lips hard, trying to contain a yet another scream and you begin to thrust harder still, shoving in your hard cock inside me, sooo deep.... "Sir, I think I’m cumming!" I whimper loudly. You bite down on my breast and I feel your warm, white cum inside me and ...and I cum. I feel my entire body shiver and feel my pussy muscles tighten around your cock. I feel you thrust in one more time, hard and deep and I barely hear you gasp my name because of the waves of continuous pleasure. And I whisper your name...over and over again.... The End |
#4
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
I want to enrol myself with MOE to be teacher, hopefully one day, I'll meet a student as above
Nice short story. More please |
#5
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Good story. Please continue.
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#6
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Story line is delicious.
How I wish I study hard and be a teacher too |
#7
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Hear that nowadays, many youngster having problem in chinese language and requires tution teacher.
Maybe it's not a bad idea to be tution teacher too. |
#8
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
more please!
__________________
I'm back!!! Hope to get your support again, @ http://www.thaibeautiful.com It's been my pleasure to serve you pleasurable moments. |
#9
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Straight: Student and Teacher: A Jewelry Class Tryst by Author: eowyn
Corinne was a hard girl to define, though she existed in a world of definitions. As a senior in her high school, she had never had many friends and no boyfriends. It didn't matter to her--few of the people at her school were mature enough for her. She was 18 before her last year even began, and craved a man, not a boy. Someone who knew how to satisfy her. Someone who could handle the beast in her. She would bide her time. That's not to say she couldn't get a boyfriend. Throughout high school, boys had sought her out, only to be met with a simple refusal. She had creamy white skin, smooth as porcelain, hair that fell in thick flaming red curls down her back, and deep brown eyes. She was as quick to laugh as she was to anger and almost terrifyingly intelligent. Driven by passion, she never did anything half way. Be it hate or love or anything in between, emotions dominated her. By her senior year, jewelry was her focus and she excelled in the class. There wasn't a person she knew who couldn't find her after school. Mr Pensbed had also come to expect her presence in his classroom. He both resented and cherished the time she spent near him. Feelings fueled his blood supply that he had not experienced for years. Even his own girlfriend couldn't fill him with such urges as Corinne unwittingly did. He had to rein himself in; a breakdown often lurked near, threatening to reveal his feelings for the student. Unbeknownst to him, he would soon lose what little control he had left. ~ ~ ~ As Corinne lay in bed, the clock read well past midnight. She sighed to herself--she was incredibly horny and wanted relief. Her fingers found the vibrator that she kept near her bed. It was a well-used old friend, but she knew that it would not completely satisfy her that night. Nonetheless, it would help. An orgasm racked her body, but it only took the edge off. Her curiosity drove her to want something more than the usual cycle of her masturbation. School the next day was monotonous, allowing her fantasies to run wild. By the time it came to the last class of the day, jewelry, she had imagined sleeping with almost every male teacher in building. Some, in her mind, were surprisingly gentle lovers, sweetly sensuous. Their methodical thrusts were slow and deep, making sure every nerve was on fire; she wanted the sensation to never end. Others were more passionate, taking control of her body. They were fierce, breathless encounters. Words were few and far between, the meetings leaving her sore and spent, yet craving more. ~ ~ ~ Pensbed closed his eyes as the bell rang for his seventh hour. He dreaded this moment as much as he wanted it: the moment when he would see Corinne. It was an unhealthy obsession, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. He knew that she would always come in with about two minutes of the passing period to spare. She would walk to her seat, so close to his desk, and set her bag down to her left. Her fingers would tie her hair back loosely with the band she kept on her wrist as she bent down to unlock her locker. Before class even started, her project would be in front of her. Right on time, she entered. |
#10
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Mr Pensbed excused himself, swiftly making his way down the hall. In no time, he was locked in a bathroom stall. Luckily no one else was in the bathroom, for surely someone would have heard him masturbating. He had found that people rarely used it before seventh hour--he made frequent enough trips there fantasizing about the beautiful redhead to know he'd likely be alone.
Behind his clenched eyes flitted visions of Corinne. Her smile, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, the freckle on her left cheek, her lips that were, in this scene, swollen from his kisses, the curves of the soft body he longed to see naked, tucked under his own as he robbed her of her innocence, young, willing, and forever his. His physical release did little to subdue the inappropriateness of his thoughts, but it helped. As he made his way back to his room, more slowly this time, he tried to collect himself. He was close to being under control when he saw Corinne leaning against his desk, her beautiful, inquisitive face turned towards him. He sighed to himself, realizing there was no escaping how he felt. "What, Corinne?" he asked with a certain edge to his voice, expressing only his frustration with himself. He saw the confusion cloud her eyes for a moment, her lips poised around her words, given pause at his tone. He silently cursed himself. "I just...I just wanted to know if you could turn on the belt sander. The door's locked..." Mr Pensbed stood, walking to the back room. With a certain amount of guilt he noticed Corinne hanging back, putting more space between them than usual. He silently did as she asked, wishing he could take his words back. Her scent clouded his mind and as the door swung shut behind them, he considered for a moment ravishing her then and there, stripping her of her clothes, exploring her body, and holding her against the machinery, taking her as he had too often considered doing. But no, she deserved better than a quick, hushed fuck in the back of a classroom full of kids. Again, he sighed. ~ ~ ~ Corinne worked swiftly on her project though she was distracted by her thoughts. Replaying the past few days in her mind, she couldn't think of anything she had done to anger him. Why would he be upset with her? She was obsessing, she knew, but it was important to her; he was important to her. For all that she could create sexy scenarios in her mind with any teacher, Mr Pensbed was the only one that she could ever do anything with. In fact, she wanted to, though she knew the impossibility of her desires. Fantasizing about him had become a usual pastime. She forced him out of her mind and focused on her silver. Looking at her project, she sighed. Any other time, she would have asked him for help, but she didn't want to talk to him. She glanced up at his desk to find his eyes on her. Her heart jumped and she turned away quickly. Her mind raced as she fidgeted in her seat. More than one torch would be needed to solder the piece together and Corinne didn't trust anyone in the class enough to do it with her. Berating herself for being foolish, she walked up to his desk. "I need your help," she stated, forcing her eyes to look into his dark blue ones. She wouldn't act like a coward. "With?" |
#11
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
"Soldering this. I think it needs more than one torch." She watched as he turned the silver in his hand, thinking.
"Yes," he replied. "Two will be fine. Are you set up at a station?" ~ ~ ~ Pensbed led her to a soldering station. Lighting the torches, he handed one to her. His fingers wrapped around hers, guiding her hand. The line of his arm followed hers, his broad chest against her back. Again her scent crept into his mind, clouding his thoughts. Standing closer to her than he would any other student, touching more of her body, he knew he couldn’t escape. He admitted defeat at the hands of this young vixen. Trapped like an animal in a cage, it wouldn’t be long before he lost control of his emotions and actions. He just hoped that she would be the only one around when the moment came. ~ ~ ~ The bell sounded, releasing students for the weekend. Like usual, Corinne stuck around. Sitting at his desk, Pensbed watched her disappear behind a wall of buffing wheels. He dropped his head in his hands, frustrated, teetering on the edge between sanity and lust. She was just a student, he tried to tell himself, but he'd not listen to reason. Just a heartbreakingly beautiful, witty, talented student. In his mind the choice was clear, but he knew it was far from simple. His musings were interrupted by the soothing sound of her voice, laced with caution and concern. "Are you okay?" She hovered mere inches from him, though he hadn't heard he approach. As he sat at his tall desk, he was at her eye level. He stood, and at 6'2", towered over her. "No," he replied. No, he had just crossed the line, giving in. He noticed the confusion cloud her face for a moment as he gripped her shoulders. His lips then fell against hers, stealing her first kiss. He felt her stiffen, then relax as her own lips responded. Their tongues combined in a feral sort of dance, thrusting, retreating, pushing, demanding. Her arms rounded his neck, trying to lessen the space between them. His hands found her breasts, teasing her already hard nipples. She pulled her mouth away from his, but kept her grip around him. He slid his hands to her sides, holding her tightly and waiting for her to speak. "What if," Corinne cleared her throat and started again. "What if someone comes in?" Her breathlessness turned him on. Not wanting to break contact with her, he slipped his hand to the back of her thighs, lifting her up. She gripped his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him, gasping to feel his hardness sliding against her. As he carried her towards the door, her lips attached themselves to his neck. She felt the door behind her back, propping her up. She slid one hand away from his neck, blindly feeling the wood. The lock clicked under her hand. No one would disturb them now. His throaty murmur passed as a thanks. ~ ~ ~ Corinne tried to stop her wildly racing mind. She knew it would be disastrous if she thought about it too long. Focusing all her attention on his body, she forced her doubts out of her mind. She rolled her neck back as Pensbed ravished her bare skin. She was on fire, inside and out, her chest heaving, short of breath. Her lower lip, caught between her teeth, was tender from his kisses. It was not enough, though. She wanted more. |
#12
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Stiffening her body, she twisted out of his grasp and slid to the floor. The door was cool behind her back, his body ignited with passion in front of her. The look in his eyes was questioning, waiting her next move. She could tell that he was braced for disaster, for her to run from his eager embrace, for him to lose his job. She would do nothing of the sort to him.
~ ~ ~ Her hands found his hips and made their way slowly, sensuously up his body. His relief was written on his face, his fears assuaged. He watched her as she unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it draped over his shoulders. Feather-light kisses adorned his chest as her hands continued to roam across his midsection. He knew that she was a virgin, boyfriendless all her life, but she knew the art of sex well. He realized that she was not half as innocent as one might have guessed. Her natural sexual prowess turned him on even more than he would have thought, but it left him impatient. It would have been easier if she didn't know what she was doing, if he had had to guide her, help her, teach her as she fumbled through unknown territory. He could have slowed down, taken his time. But he forgot all that as soon as she touched him. She was fully capable and knew well the effects of her actions on him. "Corinne." The word was coated with lust and need. She looked up at the sound of her name. In a manner far rougher than he would have imagined dealing with her, one brought on by his feral passion, he pulled her shirt over her head. He was careful of course, but he knew she was not the delicate, almost fragile, creature he had thought. Knowledge of her resilience invigorated him. Wrapping his arms around her, Pensbed pulled her away from the door. He walked her backwards until she hit the edge of one of the expansive art tables. If there had been any doubt in his mind about stealing the girl's virginity, they disappeared when her eyes met his. They were wide with lust, eager and not the least bit naive. He knew she was ready. As she laid back on the table, his hands worked at her jeans. He pulled them off, along with her slip-on shoes. She was a vision on beauty in only her bra and panties, flaming hair spread behind her, dark eyes speaking of undeniable passion. He could not help but admire her for a moment. Under her watchful gaze, he stripped down to his boxers. ~ ~ ~ Corinne smiled to see his body, but it wasn't enough. She wanted more. Locking eyes with him, she sat up, prepared to free him of his last piece of clothing, but he caught her wrists in a firm but gentle grasp. "No, no. You first." She opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind. She leaned back, propping herself up with her arms. Fixing him with an amused stare, a smirk curved her lips. The message was clear: if he wanted her completely nude first, he'd have to do the work himself. He placed his hands on her thighs. They were warm, massive hands. She felt as though they could envelope her body, swallow her whole, she could disappear within them, lost forever. They were just so rough as to not be feminine, but did not scratch her skin. Over her hips, up her sides. |
#13
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Behind her back, in one deft, almost too-skilled movement, he freed her of her bra. It made her wonder how often he did this, how much practice he had. He admired her youthful breasts, small, but not prepubescent. They were not so large as to sag, but big enough to fill his hands nicely. He moved back down her body, letting his fingers rest over the top of her panties. The look in her eyes pleaded him to continue, desperate with lust and arousal. His own passion pushed him over the edge. In a moment, both were free of their undergarments.
Pensbed wasted no time. The tip of his cock rested at her eager opening, drenched and ready. She gasped to feel him, her youth betraying her for the first time. He slipped in, stealing her virginity with one swift, sure movement. She felt as though he would rip her in two, for his size far surpassed anything that had ever entered her virgin pussy. Biting back a scream, for they were, after all, in a school, she tensed, back arching, heart racing as he began to slide back and forth, pleasure dominating pain. His hands explored her body, pulling, tweaking, caressing. She found herself panting as he began to move faster, harder. When his fingers found her clit, she could not help but moan, distantly hoping no one would hear. Pleasurable sensations wracked her body. Her chest heaved and she began to move her hips in rhythm with his. Suddenly he pulled back, his cock just barely resting against her young pussy lips. She cried out at the loss, her eyes like an animal's, wild, unfocused. She searched his face for a reason, but he only grinned. When she tried to thrust her hips back to his, he shifted so that no more than his head would enter her. As her breathing slowed, she could feel her eyes hot with frustrated tears, wondering what she could have done to deserve this cruel sort of punishment of being brought so close, and yet deprived of a sweet release. Without warning, he thrust back into her, hard and deep. ~ ~ ~ Pensbed again picked up his pace. He looked down at her body, twisted and heaving with pleasure. She was the epitome of youth: soft, supple skin, radiant and healthy, and wonderfully tight. She did, however, possess an air of maturity about her; when she first entered his class as a freshman, he had thought that she was a senior. His mind was pulled back to the present as he heard her moan. Her face was contorted with pleasure, eyes closed and mouth open, breathing hard. His own breathing was ragged. He had not felt this way in ages. She set his body alight like no other woman had, though she was only a virgin. When he could tell she was about to cum, he again pulled out, resting his member at her entrance. She fixed him with an accusatory stare, understanding the game now, but resenting it deeply. "Please," she whispered, almost desperately. "Please." She reached towards him, but he caught her wrists with his own large hands, as he had when she tried to strip him completely naked. She turned her head to the side as he held them down above her. "Look at me, Corinne." His voice was soft and reassuring and seemed to have a calming affect on her. Her breathing slowed, her anger visibly melted from her face. When they had locked eyes for a moment, he slipped back inside her. Her mouth opened in a near-silent gasp, but she kept her eyes on his. He was slower this time, making deep, steady movements. He traded wild passion for slow, sensual sex. Her legs wrapped around him, allowing him to go deeper. Her hips picked up his rhythm, and soon they were moving as one. Never breaking eye contact, he bent forward, his lips finding her own. It was a gentle, slow kiss, delicate, yet passionate. Their tongues met, and they too matched the movements of their sex. Both kept their eyes open, making for an unsettling, yet deeply erotic kiss. ~ ~ ~ As Corinne stared into Pensbed's eyes, her tongue entwined with his, herself as much a part of his body as she'd ever be, she could feel an orgasm approaching for the third time. She was desperate for release, and desperately hoping he would grant it this time. The too-familiar heat began to spread from her core, but he showed no signs of stopping. With one deep thrust, intense pleasure tore through her body. It seemed to never end, and was by far more satisfying than anything she had ever experienced before. His own orgasm followed shortly, triggering her into another round. Only then did they break eye contact, after their combined lusts had been sated. He released her wrists that had been pinned above her head, and dropped his against in her shoulder. He pulled himself up on the table next to her. When she felt his hand on her cheek, she realized there were tears on her face. They were tears of a divine sort of satisfaction, without a trace of sadness in them. Her breathing slowed along with his as they lay on the table, unable to find words to describe what had passed. The End |
#14
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Thanks Bro for the story.
Many a time, I read such story and no reaction between my legs. But this one is different. This one brings back some fond memories in me. And this one is something very special. once again. Thanks.
__________________
Life is about SEX and FOOD. |
#15
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Re: Stories for the Sexual Intellectual
Marvellous story. Waiting for more.
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