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Click hereI think sometimes I ought to just 'let go' of all of this, but there's something there. Something still in there that I can't quite get at and seldom feel up to the struggle of trying to reach.
Which makes it harder because it gnaws at me...sometimes pulling me towards it seductively, sometimes pushing me away.
It wasn't long after my teacher first started touching me, that I couldn't concentrate on my school work anymore at all. My grades plummeted. I'd sit there, staring at the page but actually wondering, waiting and thinking. There were so many questions that I didn't even know how to ask, wasn't even able to articulate in my own mind. So many feelings I couldn't define, had never felt before.
All the while I'd know, without looking up, that he would be watching me. I felt that if I lifted my eyes, he'd be looking right at me and that everyone in the class would know from that exchange of glances, exactly what was going on.
I felt literally naked in my seat, knowing that all my hidden parts had been exposed, had been touched and fondled and would be again as soon as we were alone.
I hated it when he stood near me in class, like when I had to go to the blackboard, because I could feel his physical presence next to me, his crotch right next to my face, and I knew what was behind that zipper, could feel it in my hands, huge, sweaty and throbbing.
I used to constantly rub my hands on my pants legs, trying to wipe that feeling off, but it never went away, it only burned and grew more intense.
There was one day in particular. I went down into the basement after school to get some supplies of some sort. My teacher had disappeared for a bit and I didn't know where he'd gone. He'd had me rubbing his cock in the cloakroom earlier and seemed distracted. Then, when I thought he was going to cum, he'd stopped me. There'd been a sound maybe, I didn't know. It was hard for me to keep track of the rest of the world when I was doing these things, because I had to focus so much on what I was doing in order to do it correctly.
But anyway, he's stopped me and told me to finish some chore or other in the classroom and then go downstairs to get more chalk or something like that. I don't really remember what it was.
All I know is that I went down into the dark, gloomy basement, turned into the room that held various supplies and there he was. I could tell before I even saw him. I could hear a heavy breathing and smell him. I could smell the onion-y scent of his sweat. He was a big, fat man, and he always sweated a lot. Particularly when he was excited.
He pushed me against the wall and fumbled with my pants. Turning me around to face away from him. I could feel his fat stomach pressed against me from behind and that familiar lump just bellow his belly.
He pulled my cock out like he always did, tugging it a couple of times to make sure it was all the way out and then turned me around and pushed me so that I was kneeling on some sort of box, with my legs spread slightly. Then he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. It seemed long and huge and this time he rubbed it all over my face, leaving a trail of sticky wetness on my skin and in my hair. Then he pushed my mouth open and tried to force himself inside. I tried to open my mouth all the way but only part of his dick would fit into my mouth. He was just too big. This seemed to frustrate him and he tried to push deeper but there was nowhere to go. He grunted and squirmed and became very rough because he really wanted this it seems. At one point he pushed so hard it slipped to the side and I thought it would rip my cheek open. He shoved his cock harder against the roof of my mouth but I just couldn't open wide enough. So instead of fucking me in the mouth as I now know he was trying to do, he just held my head like that, his cock pushed in as far as it would go, and jerked off into my mouth. Holding the back of my head with one hand to keep me in place and jerking himself off, making a sort of gasping, whimpering sound as he did it. It reminded me of a dog. I'd never heard a human make a sound like that before and it frightened me.
I don't remember all of this very clearly, it was much like going to the dentist and trying to keep your mouth open wide enough and not swallow, which closes your mouth, Mostly I was trying to get enough air through my nose, but it started running and I could barely get any in at all which made me frantic. I had both hands pushed against his hips, but it didn't do any good, he was desperate by this point and kept his hard cock shoved in as far as it would go and all the while his fat hand rubbed frantically up and down it's length, banging into my chin and nose. The wiry hair on his hand seemed to be stabbing my face and it hurt a lot.
When he finally came, it filled my mouth in a rush and choked me and I gagged and coughed and all I remember is choking and gagging and his slapping me on the back until I quit.
I don't think I ever felt so completely helpless or desperate.
Yet despite this, for some reason I don't quite understand, I mainly remember the sensation of my own penis, bouncing and swinging back and forth out of the open fly in the front of my pants, and how lewd and nasty it felt.
I still often bend over like that and swing my cock around until it's hard and throbbing, and my favorite way to cum is still with my dick dangling down or in front like that. I like to let go and cum 'hands free' and watch it bob and jerk while it spurts.