The Trashy Virgin

By: Cassandra Dee

So yeah, I was already taken and faced now with Ms. Smith prowling towards me, eyeing me up and down, the whole thing was pretty gross. Even a little pathetic, come to think of it. Because what cougar goes hunting her own students? It was grounds to be fired and yet Ms. Smith was so desperate she was willing to risk it.

So when the blonde placed her hands on my chest, those long, red fingernails digging into my pecs, I tried to stay calm, remind myself that this was a woman who needed help. Grabbing her hands firmly in mine, I pulled them away from my body.

“Like I said,” I rumbled, “I got a B on the last midterm so I’m fine, thanks.”

Ms. Smith pouted and wiggled her hips a bit.

“I can make it an A,” she breathed, peering at me over her glasses, licking her red, lipsticked lips. “Or even an A+.”

Shit, this was really beyond the pale. Not just coming onto a student but also offering to change his grades in return for … ? What exactly? I didn’t want to know.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I managed in a neutral voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” I said, turning to go. But I could tell it wasn’t over yet because she was still gazing at me hungrily, eyeing my muscular back, the broad shoulders and long legs like she hadn’t heard a word of my rejection. I could tell from the sassy gleam in her eyes that even a direct “no” in plain English hadn’t turned her off.

But I wasn’t gonna hang out, no way, the sooner I got to sweeter pastures, the better. So I beat feet, crossing the classroom in two long strides and banged the door shut behind me. And once out, I stopped, shaking my head in the empty hallway. What the fuck? Had that really happened? Had my English teacher offered me an A+ in return for sex, in return for hot meat in her body? Holy shit, holy shit, this was so fucked up.

But I guess it wasn’t that hard to believe. I’m a full-grown man now, with a hard, masculine body, no longer the stretched out Gumby figure I used to be. Now I was an alpha with a commanding presence, newfound assurance and confidence. So yeah, a lot more heads were turning, women scrambling over each other to get to know me, begging for a second of my time, to feel my hands on their bodies. But fuck, I only wanted Katy. It’s so fucked up, I know, we live together and she’s practically like my sister. But what am I supposed to do? There was no one quite like my beautiful brunette with the sassy hips and gentle smile, the breathy little laugh that made my dick so fucking hard all the time, even though it was totally wrong.

So striding to my truck, I heaved my stuff in, trying to clear my head. I wanted her, yeah, but it was wrong, right? I mean, it’s wrong to feel this way about someone whose bedroom was literally next to yours, whose panties hung right next to your boxers on the clothesline. But I couldn’t help it, and my mind took off in perverted directions, thinking only of Katy’s shapely body, how much I wanted to have some alone time with my best girl, bask in her presence, enjoy her smiles, her words, gaze upon that sweet, curvy form without another man in the room. So with a grunt, I took off, ready to lay eyes on the little beauty.

But once at the trailer, alarm bells started jangling in my head like fucking fire alarms. Because what the fuck, the trailer was actually rocking, bouncing up and down on its shocks. I shook my head, confused at first. Brent’s a well-to-do guy and the place we lived in was top-of-the-line, costing tens of thousands of dollars and solid as a tank. So what the fuck was happening, was this an earthquake?

But in the next second, the mystery was dispelled. Because a long whine rang out, a breathy feminine, “Ohhhh Brent!” followed by the unmistakable sound of a deep kiss.

And fuck, but the blood drained from my body then, I was rooted to the floor, unable to move, my heart beating like thunder in my chest, arms and legs weak. Because could it be? Could Katy and Brent be … oh shit … I shook my head, disbelief in my eyes.

Because then there was the unmistakable sound of wet flesh slapping and Katy’s sexy little shrieks, little cries of “Oh oh oh!” punctuated by a deep growl from Brent, a hoarse rasp of “Yeah baby, come for me.”

And I ran. Like a coward, I turned and fled, long legs pumping, chest burning, breath minty in my throat. There could be no mistaking the sounds. Brent was fucking my girl, the girl that I wanted so bad, the girl who’d been in my dreams each night since she moved in, taking over every waking thought, every lucid moment. And fuck, but Katy was eating it up. She was there of her own volition, her own free will, begging Brent for more, asking him to take her, to make her his.

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