SAMANTHA’S SECRET
Welcome to Hampton University, a highly recognized prestigious school in Hampton, Virginia. Here at Hampton, the female student body outnumbers the male, seven to one. As if my job as teacher and role model wasn’t hard enough, especially when over half your female students’ idea of school attire consists of short skirts and low-riding, hip-hugging jeans.
My name is Mr. Patterson, your average no-life-outside-the-curriculum Humanities teacher. My average weekend consists of grading papers, or late night drives to sulk over my past life with a wife whose idea of spicing up our sex life included sleeping with half the town. Three years and I still haven’t moved on, though my wife had no problems doing so. For some reason, after the divorce I couldn’t get a girlfriend nor sex partner if my life depended on it, and I considered myself to be a pretty open-minded guy. In fact so open-minded that my highlight of each day was rushing home after class to jerk off to some young, enticing student in a skirt, whose panties just so happened to be visible from underneath her desk. That was basically my daily routine… exciting, right? Little did I know all of that was about to change.
About one month ago while locking up to head home for the day, I bumped into one of my old students named Samantha. Samantha use to be one of my brightest students as a freshman. She was always ahead of her other classmates when it came to punctuality, attendance, and behavior. Samantha never struck me as the type of girl that guys fantasized about, but her intelligence more than made up for what she lacked in looks and sex appeal. You see, anyone that has ever had the pleasure of cruising Hampton University’s campus would tell you in a heartbeat that of that seven to one female to male ratio, six of the females could easily be runway models. Unfortunately, Samantha would never be included in that six.
In class, Samantha was never a girl of many words; from what I could tell, she didn’t have many friends, either. When called upon to participate in classroom discussions, she was always very soft-spoken.
Now a senior, something was different about her, although at the time I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. She still dressed and looked the same: roughly five feet, three inches, maybe 150lbs, and still wearing loose fitting sweaters with the matching ankle-length dress that made her look like a cult member. Although it had been nearly four years since I last seen her, she still possessed a girlish innocence. When she saw me, she smiled from ear to ear, like someone who had just bumped into a long lost friend. We talked for an hour or more, before I apologetically cut the conversation short so I could get home. You see, I had a date with Palmetta, and I was getting hornier with each passing moment.
As a polite gesture, I offered Samantha a ride home, though I was inwardly hoping she would turn it down. As my luck would have it, she accepted. It was already past seven, and she lived a half-hour’s drive away from campus. By the time we reached her apartment, it was obvious to me that the shy freshman I had taught three years prior had burst out of her shell. For starters, while driving, the conversation took a sharp, inappropriate turn that led down Sex Avenue. Uncomfortably, I was forced to listen while Samantha went on and on about how frustrated she was, dealing with the immature boys on campus. How they all wanted to just fuck or have their dicks sucked, but none of them would dare be caught dead in public with her. Surprised and a little embarrassed, I smiled and nodded, trying to ignore the hard-on that was steady inching up in my pants. I knew that at that moment, the correct thing to do would have been to either change the subject, or explain to Samantha the inappropriateness of the conversation. Too bad doing the right thing isn’t always the easy thing.
Once we arrived at Samantha’s place, she thanked me for the ride and asked if I wanted to come in for a beverage before starting the long ride back. Although this was a very bad idea, I accepted her offer. She lived in a college area, and on the way up to her door, I was busy scanning the surrounding area for anyone that might recognize either of us. Lucky for me it was getting dark.
Once inside, I was a little more at ease to find out that Samantha didn’t have any roommates. She told me to have a seat while she got me a drink and changed clothes. Twenty long minutes later, she finally returned from the back room, barefoot, and wearing a pair of tiny, loose fitting jogging shorts. To my surprise, her shorts revealed a pair of the loveliest, thick and shapely tanned legs I had ever seen. To make matters worse, she was also wearing a tight little translucent white t-shirt that gave me a front row seat to her young succulent nipples that were peeking through. My dick was now at full attention… and it was definitely time to get going. However, before I could even get a word out, she picked right up where she left off in the car and asked, “Hypothetically speaking, if you and I were fucking, would you be embarrassed to be seen in public with me?”
Speechless for what seemed like an eternity, painfully I tried to do the responsible adult thing. “Samantha, I’m a university instructor. So for your sake, as well as my career, I will pretend that you never asked me that question.” What I really meant was if I don’t ignore that question, I might end up fucking your little college brains out. After making it clear that there would be no more sex talk, I immediately jumped up to leave—a man can only take so much. Out of sight, out of mind was my best option.
At this point Samantha must’ve read my mind, because as soon as I started for the door, she reached for a small nightstand drawer beside the couch, and pulled out a massive, ten-inch vibrator. At a loss for words, I didn’t take another step as she proceeded to slide her shorts to the side, revealing her shaven paradise. Then as if she was caressing my own dick, she seductively began to trace her tongue and wet lips around the head of the vibrator, while gently massaging her clit with her fingertips. “See how juicy you make my pussy, teacher?” she said while licking the juices off. “I told you in the car that I was tired of fucking boys.”
My dick was so hard that I thought it was going to unzip my pants for me. I must be dreaming, I thought. This can’t be the same Samantha I taught as a freshman. The thought alone was driving me so crazy with excitement and curiosity that I could barely think straight.
“Stroke your cock for me, teacher… I won’t tell!” she moaned while burying over six inches of the plastic cock inside her wet pussy.
As though possessed, I started unzipping my pants and followed her orders without another thought about the consequences. “Like this?” I asked while vigorously massaging my cock up and down.
“Damn it! Did I tell you to speak? I’m the instructor tonight,” she scolded in a sharp tone that resembled a strong disciplinarian. The sudden change of role was driving me crazy with excitement. She commanded me back to her bedroom so she could, as she put it, finally get fucked by a man.
Watching her tight ass switch back toward the bedroom reminded me that all I had to go home to was a greased palm. My mind was made up.
When we got in the room— a dimly lit sex room with three candles burning— the first items that caught my attention were a pair of handcuffs hanging on the wall, and an assortment of lubrication tubes scattered about the nightstand. How well we think we know people, I thought as we both anxiously got undressed and entered into one of the most arousing kisses that this middle-aged man had ever experienced. Not even in my entire five-year marriage did I ever experience a kiss so intense and passionate. Samantha’s naked body felt like smooth silk rubbing against mine, as our tongues danced freely in each other’s mouths. Pushing me onto her bed, she grabbed my stiff cock with a firm but delicate grip, and slowly slid her lips down over the head for a perfect fit. My concentration was scattered as she allowed the saliva from her mouth to drool down the shaft of my cock, just to slurp it all off while massaging my balls. My cock felt like it was about to explode when out of nowhere she suggested we switch positions so she could put her toes in my mouth. Meticulously, I rubbed my nose in between her toes and up and down her soles while taking in the full erotic funk of the moment. The smelly, yet somehow highly arousing stench wafting from Samantha’s feet was the result of tracking around a big college campus all day in cross trainers. Each funky whiff brought me closer and closer to climactic paradise.
The whole time I was inhaling the pungent order of Samantha’s feet, she cooed while stuffing her parted love hole with three cum-covered fingers. Overcome with arousal, I continued my erotic foot massage, this time sucking each of her toes one by one, forcing her to turn onto her side, indicating she couldn’t take anymore. My dick was now on fire!
“Fuck me, now,” she moaned while spreading her legs, and peeling back her moist pussy lips for my cock to douse its flame. All that jerking off the last three years had caused me to forget how good the real thing could be. I hoped like hell I hadn’t forgotten how to fuck.
Sliding my cock inside her tight wet hole for the first time instantly transported us both to Utopia. Samantha’s wet pussy immediately got wetter as she came hard all over my dick with a force that rocked the bed. “Fuck me like the bad girl I am, teacher!” she screamed while wrapping her thick young legs around my back and locking her ankles. I pounded her tender pussy up and down for over an hour, as she kept creaming repeatedly on my dick. What felt good was her gripping my ass with both hands and pulling me deeper with each of my thrusts. “I want your finger in my asshole, teacher...so you can cum with me,” she moaned. “But first put your finger in my mouth so I can get it ready,” she told me, putting my finger in her mouth and sucking it until it was wet enough to easily slide in her asshole. I cupped her left ass cheek in one hand, and with her legs still tightly wrapped around my back, I inserted the saliva-drenched finger that she craved in her dirty little asshole.
“That’s it teacher… that’s the way I like it,” she yelled as she let loose an intense orgasm that met my own sperm head-on. The next few moments were spent fucking hard and fast, taking advantage of those highly intense few seconds of remaining ecstasy that ends with drained satisfaction.
Afterwards, I came to my senses and started scrambling around, trying to find my clothes so I could get the hell out of there. What the hell was I thinking? It was already past twelve o’clock at this point, and I still had papers to grade by morning. Samantha was lying across the bed, nearly asleep, staring at me with a look that could only mean…not you too. I felt bad, but there was nothing else I could do. I accept the blame for putting us both in a situation that would inevitably lead nowhere; that was my fault for letting my dick rule me.
After that night, I didn’t see or speak with Samantha for another two months. That’s when she came back into my life and dropped a bomb on me.
She told me that on the night that she and I had sex, we created a love child. She also told me that, although she wasn’t going to have an abortion, she would never tell anyone who the father of the child was.
She promised me that it would be our little secret…
Copyright 2007, Javon64. All rights reserved.
No republication of this material, in any form or medium, is permitted without express permission of the author and Trimaxx International Publishers.
Visit Javon64 at his highly popular myspace page:
www.myspace.com/thejavon64