Bad Virgin
“Oh yeah? Which one?” He sipped his whiskey again.
“Braden Steele’s father. He wasn’t happy I suspended his son.” I chuckled and shrugged. “I handled him.”
“Braden Steele? You suspended Braden Steele? Are you out of your mind?” His eyes got wide with concern.
“And I dealt with his father. Everything is fine. His father understood.” I kept the details thin—if Sloane knew exactly what I did, he would probably die on the spot.
“I..” He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s impossible. Next you’ll be telling me you suspended Bethany Lewis and she did cartwheels out the front door.”
“I didn’t suspend her. I didn’t have to.” I smiled. “Let’s just say she won’t have an easy time sitting down at the dinner table tonight.”
“What?” It took a moment for what I said to register. “You didn’t...”
“I paddled her.” I nodded. “The handbook says it’s an acceptable method of dealing with behavior.”
“That handbook is twenty years old! We don’t paddle students anymore!” His jaw fell halfway down his chest. “Oh my god, I’m going to get sued.”
“It’ll be fine, trust me. She isn’t going to tell anyone what happened. Her pride won’t let her.” I sipped my beer again. “But, I don’t think she’ll be eager to end up in detention again.”
Or maybe she will...
“This is insanity. I made a mistake. I’m going to have to go back on Monday.” He put his whiskey glass on the table and buried his head in his hands.
“You were about to quit. I’m not done turning things around yet. Let me keep working and you enjoy your vacation.” I reached over and put my hand on his arm. “Things will be much better when you return, I promise.”
My brother was certainly nervous, but in the end, he finally agreed to let me keep working on my plan to turn the school around. What I said to him wasn’t entirely true. The school was already in good shape and outside of minor issues, most of the students had fallen in line. He could have taken back over on Monday and probably found the job ten times easier than it was when he left. The problem was—I didn’t want to leave.
I didn’t want to be away from Bethany or her delicious curves. The way her hips moved and her pussy glistened when the paddle landed on her ass was all I could think about. If the stories were true, she was no stranger to the thing I wanted to do to her. The next time she found herself bent over a desk, it might not just be for the paddle. After my brother went to bed, I lay on the couch and images of her ran through my head.
I bet that pussy is so tight—she’s never been fucked by a real man.
My hand was a poor substitute for what I really wanted, but it was all I had. I could have hit up a bar and found someone to bring back to my brother’s couch, but none of them would have compared to Bethany. I stroked my cock through my pants and started to unfasten them. My brother was already passed out so I didn’t have to worry about him walking out of his bedroom. I unbuttoned my shirt once my cock was exposed and closed my eyes. I imagined Bethany there with me, riding my cock with the same lust on her face that I saw while she was in her car. I had to get pretty damn creative in my head when I was locked up, trying to get my thrill when the lights went out. None of those thoughts were as intense as the images of Bethany dancing in my head. I moved my hand up and down my cock slow, feeling it swell even more as the pleasure brought it to life.
I’m going to do very dirty things to you, Ms. Lewis.
My hand went down to my balls and then back to the top of my cock with a single stroke, each one getting a little faster than the one before it. I knew what her pussy looked like, I knew what her ass looked like, but I had to imagine her naked tits bouncing while she rode me. The shirts she wore were so tight that it wasn’t difficult. I imagined both of her tits in my hands as she lifted up and down, letting my cock slide deep inside her pussy. She was probably the kind of girl that rode a cock like her life depended on it, chasing an orgasm like a maniac. If the fury of what she was doing in her car was any indication, she didn’t hold back when she wanted to cum. I would teach her things that none of the guys at the school could teach her—I would teach her how to worship my cock and beg for more.
Don’t stop—don’t stop until you make me cum.
In my fantasy, my hands drifted down from her breasts and started to hold her hips while she bucked them against me. The fantasy was intense and I could feel the pressure building up in my balls. It built until I was so close to an orgasm that my hips were moving up as my hand came down. I grabbed a napkin from the table and held it to the end of my cock. The pressure got more intense as I imagined Bethany moaning and begging for me to fuck her harder. In my mind, I was happy to oblige. The pressure got even stronger and the pleasure sent a release of dopamine through my body. I clenched the head of my cock with the napkin as I imagined myself deep inside of her and ready to unload. The sticky streams of cum rushed through my cock and erupted against the napkin. I stroked faster, sending more cum shooting through the shaft until I was drained.
Chapter 8: Bethany
I got home and could barely make eye contact with my parents. My mother couldn’t pass up a chance to have a traditional sit down dinner and my brother was visiting for the weekend, which meant there was no way we were going to eat in front of the television. I winced when I sat down in my chair, feeling the effects of the paddle still lingering on my ass. The sting was gone, but it still hurt when I put pressure on it.
I kept a fake smile on my face while my brother went through his accolades and explained how well he was doing as the shining star of our family. It made me want to throw up in my mouth just hearing it. Everything was so perfect for him.
When the conversation shifted to me, I just told them everything was fine. My parents had learned not to pry. The few times they prodded me enough to get a genuine answer, it had just been a round of disappointment echoing in the room. Thankfully, Amy came over after dinner and bailed me out of familial bliss.
“How did detention go?” She dropped her purse on my bed and plopped down onto the quilt.
“Well...” There was no way I could tell her the truth. “It was interesting.”
“Did you get out early? What was your big plan to make Mr. Matthews squirm this time?” She bit down on her lip and grinned.
“It didn’t work, I had to stay for the full hour.” I sighed and shook my head.
“What? Mr. Matthews is trying to be a hard-ass. What the hell has come over these teachers lately—and Mr. Thorne?” Her expression changed to an annoyed one as she shook her head.