Laurel Bennett - The Headmaster's confession

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“If you were a bit older,” I began, without even thinking. I wished I could take the words back immediately. My hand dropped down to adjust my cock. Her eyes followed my move and I let them. I didn’t stop. I would go to hell for this. I was certain of it.

“May I see it?” she asked suddenly.

See what? Certainly not my cock?

“Your…” She wasn’t certain what to call it? But she pointed to my lap.

“My cock?” I choked out.

“Is that what it’s called?” She smiled softly.

Cock. Among other things. Right now, it called to be inside her. I had to get her out of my study. But I simply nodded slowly. “I don’t know what to do with you,” I admitted.

“Punish me,” she said with urgency. She reached for the birch stick and picked up my hand, then pressed it into my palm. Then she threw herself upon my person. Across my lap actually. She put the birch stick in my hand and pointed her bottom at me. Certainly, she didn’t think I would strike her?

“What are you doing, Miss Winters?” I nearly shouted. But then I squelched my need to shout. She was lying on my cock. I held my hands out to the side to keep from touching her.

She looked back at me over her shoulder. “Don’t you want to spank me?”

I swiped a hand across my mouth. “More than you know,” I mumbled. I wanted to spank her. Then breach all her defenses as I surged inside her.

“Then do it.” She wiggled her bum at me.

My cock swelled even more against my belly. She would make me come in my trousers if she did that again.

“Don’t do that,” I ordered. I tossed the birch stick onto the desk. Blast and damn. Her bottom was nice and round. I thanked God idly that it was covered by her skirts. If not, I’d be done for. Of its own free will, my hand dropped onto her bottom. It was a gentle thwack . One that betrayed my need. But couldn’t have hurt her. “This is wrong, Miss Winters,” I said quickly. So, so wrong.

“I know,” she whispered.

Then she reached back and ruched her gown up in her fingers until it pooled around her waist, baring her bum for me. The tender white flesh trembled with her wiggling into place. I swiped a hand down my face, trying to still by rapidly beating heart.

“There. Now you don’t have to spank me through my skirts.”

I stilled. That plump flesh looked so perfect. So, round. So… needy. I absently hoped I hadn’t harmed her when I’d lowered that light blow. But her skin was a little red. I lowered my hand to soothe that red spot. Her arse clenched at my touch, but then she released it. Her skin was as soft as doe-skin. And silky smooth. Perfectly unblemished. Slim hips and a round bottom. She would be the object of my fantasies from this day forth. “I cannot bring myself to mar this skin,” I said. I hated the tremble of my own voice.

“You won’t punish me?” she asked. She looked over my shoulder at me again. Her pins had come loose and her curls were hanging in her face. I brushed them back so I could look into her icy blue eyes.

“I can’t,” I told her. But my hand had a will of its own. Apparently the same one as my cock. I dipped it between her thighs until my middle finger touched her clit. That little numb that probably pounded as loudly as my cock. I couldn’t spank this girl. But I could show her how to find pleasure. I dipped my finger into her tight little pussy and brought some moisture forward to her nub. She nearly shot off my lap when it slid my finger across it three times, strumming it like a violin. “I shouldn’t have done that,” I croaked out.

“Do it again?” she whispered. I’d never felt like this before. I ached. And she probably did to. I should have declined. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I spread her cheeks again and slipped my hand between her legs.

“So wet,” I groaned. I captured some of her moisture, bringing it from that hot cavern and using it to lubricate that little pulse point. “Is this where you ache?” I asked as I began to circle it.

“Yes,” she cried out. She lifted her bottom, presumably to give me better access. I fit my hand more firmly between her thighs, one hand on her back, holding her still against me, as the other plundered. “Oh, dear God,” she cried out.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Miss Winters. It’s wrong.” My voice held a longing I’d never expected.

“Don’t stop,” was all she could say.

I had to stop. I couldn’t keep doing this. It was wrong. So, I shoved her from my lap. A bit too roughly at first. But then I gentled my trembling fingers and lifted her with gentle pressure. I caught sight of that little tuft of hair between her legs and stopped. I caught her skirts before they could fall, holding them high as my hands settled on her bare hips. I brought her forward until she was forced to climb upon me. She took me between her thighs like I was meant to be there. I grabbed her bum firmly in my hands and pulled her forward until she rode my cock. The heat of her penetrated my trousers.

“Your trousers will get wet,” she warned.

She whimpered as I set her from me. But it was only long enough to free my cock from the confines of my trousers. I had to feel her. I had to know her. I had to have her. I had to feel her wetness. There was no turning back. I pulled her forward. But she stopped me with a hand pressed to my chest. Then she reached between us and grasped my cock. The slit wept for her, and she circled it with her thumb, the big purple head aching. She swiped her thumb across the trickle of liquid that seeped from the end and brought it to her lips. I thought I might spill myself right there, between us. I groaned loudly. Groaned for her. For all the things I wanted to do to her and couldn’t.

“Can you put it inside me?” she whispered, her fingers threading into the wet hair at my temples.

I shook my head. I couldn’t have her, no matter how much I wanted her. But she rocked her pussy against my cock, her wetness spreading over me. I fit my cock against her nub and she picked up a rhythm so that I rubbed it. She rocked back and forth, her hands holding tightly to my shoulders. I took over, pulling her forward and back. Rubbing her against me. Little mewling sounds tumbled from her mouth.

“Just a little,” she pleaded.

“It’s wrong.”

She took me in her hand and propped me at the opening of her womanhood.

“No,” I protested. But I didn’t withdraw. I just stayed there, the heat of her wrapping around me like a fist. “No,” I groaned.

Then she began to rock on me. The head of my cock slipped along her folds, hinting of entering her but not doing so. I would go mad with wanting her, I was certain of it. But she was just a girl. She was in my care. Not even a whore. She was an innocent. Her juices leaked down my shaft to touch my stones.

“No,” I groaned long and loud.

“Please?” she whispered. Then she touched her lips to mine. I devoured her like I’d never taken another. I wanted to explore every piece of her. To be one with her. To put my mark on every inch of her.

“Maybe just an inch, so you can see what it feels like,” I said hesitantly. I could barely hear my own words. I could put just a little inside her. Just a tiny bit to see what she felt like. I didn’t have to compromise her. I pressed forward, my hands kneading her arse. She stretched ever so easily around me as I sank just the head inside her. “I can’t go any farther,” I said.

“Yes, you can,” she pleaded.

“It’s wrong.” I cupped her face in my hands and looked into her eyes. “It’s wrong.” It’s wrong. So wrong.

I didn’t move, but she sank down ever so slightly on me. “No,” I groaned. My eyes closed and my head fell back as she took more of me inside her. I thought I would die a slow death. “Stop,” I commanded. But she didn’t listen.