**Forbidden Lessons**

I was just a sophomore, barely sixteen, when I realized I had a crush on Mr. Carter. He was my English teacher—tall, in his late thirties, with these dark, knowing eyes that made my stomach flip every time he looked at me. It was stupid, the kind of crush I knew I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it. The way his voice got deeper when he read Shakespeare, the way his shirt sleeves hugged his arms when he wrote on the board… God, I was obsessed.

It started with lingering glances. Then, after class one day, I stayed behind, pretending I needed help with an assignment. His classroom was empty, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the desks. His fingers brushed mine when he handed back my paper, and I swear I felt it everywhere.

“You’re a bright student, Lori,” he said, his voice low. “But I think you already know that.”

My cheeks burned. “I just like your class.”

He smirked. “Is that all you like?”

My heart hammered. Was he flirting? No way. This was wrong. But when his hand cupped my chin, tilting my face up, I didn’t pull away.

His kiss was slow at first, testing. His lips were warm, his tongue grazing mine, teasing. I whimpered into his mouth, my fingers curling into his shirt. His hands slid down my back, gripping my hips, pulling me against him. I could feel his cock already hard beneath his slacks, pressing into my stomach.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breaking the kiss. “You shouldn’t be this tempting.”

“I want you,” I breathed.

His fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp. “You know how wrong this is, right?”

That only made me wetter. I nodded, pressing against him. “Yeah. But I don’t care.”

He groaned, his hand sliding under my skirt, fingers tracing the damp fabric of my panties. “Christ, you’re soaked.”

I moaned as he rubbed my clit through the fabric, my thighs trembling. His other hand unbuttoned my blouse, his mouth hot against my neck as he pushed my bra aside, sucking my nipple into his mouth. The sharp tug made me whimper, my pussy throbbing.

“Please,” I begged.

He lifted me onto his desk, knocking papers aside. His fingers hooked into my panties, dragging them down my thighs before spreading my legs. His thumb circled my clit, slow and firm, while two fingers slid inside me.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled.

I arched into his touch, my nails digging into his shoulders. His fingers curled inside me, hitting that perfect spot, and I gasped, shaking as my orgasm crashed over me.

Before I could catch my breath, he undid his belt, his cock springing free—thick, veiny, already leaking. He stroked himself, his eyes locked on mine. “You sure about this?”

I nodded, spreading my legs wider. “I want you inside me.”

He groaned, gripping my hips as he pushed in, inch by inch, stretching me deliciously. “Fuck, Lori—so fucking tight.”

I bit my lip, his cock filling me completely. He started slow, but soon he was pounding into me, his hips slamming against mine. The desk creaked beneath us, my back pressed against the cold wood. Every thrust sent sparks through me, my pussy clenching around him.

“God, you feel amazing,” he grunted, his hands tightening on my thighs. “Such a dirty girl, taking your teacher’s cock like this.”

The words sent a thrill through me. I came again with a cry, my nails raking down his back. He fucked me through it, his pace brutal now, before pulling out at the last second, his cum streaking across my stomach.

Breathless, he kissed me deep, his hands roaming my body like he couldn’t get enough.

“After school next week?” he murmured against my lips.

I grinned, still dizzy from pleasure. “Definitely.”

It was wrong. So wrong. But as I quickly dressed, my legs still shaking, I knew I’d be back for more.