Principal Morrison Loves a BBC(2)🫦💦

Chapter 2

The Power Flip.

Elena’s POV

I spent the whole next day trying to act normal. Smiling at teachers in the hallway. Signing off on suspension notices. Pretending my thighs didn’t still ache from how deep Jamal stretched me.

My panties stayed damp just thinking about it. Mark had come home last night all sweet and clueless, kissing my cheek while I still had another man’s cum leaking out of me. The guilt sat heavy in my stomach ; but the thrill? That shit sat even heavier between my legs.

After the last bell rang, I texted Jamal. I kept it short and bossy so it wouldn’t sound like I needed him.

“My office. Now. We need to talk.”

I thought I could flip the script. Remind him who ran this school. Threaten his scholarship, his football future, whatever it took to get control back. I even wore a fresh pencil skirt and buttoned my blouse all the way up like armor.

He strolled in ten minutes later like he owned the damn place. Baggy jeans hanging just right, that cocky grin already in place.

“Principal Morrison. You called?”

“Close the door,” I said, keeping my voice ice cold. “Sit down.”

Jamal shut it but didn’t sit. He leaned against it instead, arms folded, eyes dragging over me slow.

“You looking all serious again. That mean you ready for round two or you bout to lecture a nigga?”

“This ends today,” I told him, standing up behind my desk so I felt taller.

“What happened yesterday was a mistake. A one-time lapse in judgment. If you breathe a word about it, I’ll make sure you’re out of this school and every college recruiter forgets your name.”

He chuckled, that low rumbling sound that made my clit throb against my will. “Damn, Elena. Yesterday you was screaming for me to fill you up and today you back to Principal Voice? That’s crazy.”

“Don’t call me Elena.”

“Aight, Principal.” He pushed off the door and came around the desk like he belonged there. “But let me ask you something. You really think you in charge right now?”

Before I could answer he pulled out his phone, tapped once, and turned the screen toward me. My own voice filled the office. “Fuck me harder. Please, Jamal”. Clear as day. The video showed everything.

My ass bouncing back on him, tits spilling out, face twisted in pure pleasure while he railed me from behind.

My stomach dropped. “How… when did you—”

“While you was busy squirting all over your important papers,” he said, smirking. “Phone been recording the whole time. Good quality too. These new iPhones; man, they don’t play.”

I reached for the phone but he held it high, laughing. “Nah, we good. You delete this and I send it to the school board, your husband, hell, maybe even that church group you always posting about on F******k. Goodness knows they’d love this side of you.”

Heat flooded my face. Shame. Anger. And yeah, fresh arousal pooling between my thighs. I hated how my body betrayed me.

“Delete it,” I whispered.

Jamal stepped closer until my back hit the wall. “Or what? You gon’ write me up?” He slipped one hand under my skirt, fingers brushing my soaked panties.

“This pussy already telling on you. She wetter than yesterday.”

I grabbed his wrist but didn’t push him away.

“Jamal… please.”

“Please what?” He rubbed my clit through the fabric, slow circles that had my knees buckling. “Please stop? Or please make you cum again so you stop fronting?”

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. The blackmail felt dirty. Dangerous. And it turned me on more than I wanted to admit. He slid my panties aside and pushed two thick fingers inside me without warning. I gasped, gripping his shoulders.

“There she go,” he murmured, voice dripping with that playful swagger. “Principal acting tough but this tight little pussy stay clapping for me. Bet your husband don’t even know she get this sloppy.”

He finger-fucked me right there against the wall while I tried not to moan too loud. My hips rolled against his hand on their own. When he dropped to his knees, pushed my skirt up, and buried his face between my thighs I nearly lost it. That tongue was wicked ; long strokes, sucking my clit, humming like he was eating his favorite meal.

“Jamal… fuck… we can’t—”

But I came anyway. Hard. Legs shaking, hand over my mouth to muffle the cry. He kept licking through it, messy and loud, until I was twitching.

He stood up, lips shiny, and finally let me taste myself when he kissed me deep. Then he pulled his cock out. Heavy, hard, veins popping. “On your knees, Principal. Time to earn that video staying private.”

I sank down before I could think better of it. The carpet bit into my knees as I took him in my mouth. He was too big to fit all the way but I tried anyway, gagging, drooling, eyes watering while he groaned above me.

“Shit, look at you. Respectable ass principal sucking dick under her own desk during office hours. This some BET after dark type shit.”

I moaned around him, bobbing faster, using my hand on what I couldn’t swallow. He filmed it. Of course he did. Phone angled down, capturing every sloppy second.

“Smile for the camera, baby. Yeah, just like that. Goodness knows you a natural.”

My pussy clenched at his words. The humiliation burned so good. He fucked my throat until tears ran down my cheeks, then pulled out and bent me over the desk again. This time he didn’t go easy. Hard, deep strokes that made the desk slam against the wall. Papers flew. My tits bounced out of my bra.

Right when I was about to cum again someone knocked on the door.

“Principal Morrison? You in there? I heard noises.”

It was Mrs. Jenkins from admin. My heart stopped.

Jamal didn’t miss a beat. He clamped a hand over my mouth and kept pounding, slower but just as deep. “Answer her,” he whispered, amusement thick in his voice.

I forced my voice steady. “I’m… on a call. Be right out.”

Jamal laughed silently behind me and rubbed my clit until I came again, pussy gushing around him while I whimpered into his palm. He followed right after, flooding me deep, groaning low in his throat.

After Mrs. Jenkins walked away he pulled out and watched his cum drip down my leg.

“Clean that up before you leave. Wouldn’t want people asking questions.”

I stood there trembling, skirt around my waist, blouse open, ruined. Jamal tucked himself away and headed for the door.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked, flashing that dimpled grin. “Or maybe I bring a friend. Your choice, Principal. But that video staying safe… for now.”

He left me there leaking and shaking. I barely had time to clean up before my phone buzzed with a new message. Unknown number.

Nice show today. Keep being a good girl or everybody sees.

My blood ran cold. Jamal? Or someone else? I didn’t know. But the fear mixed with fresh heat between my legs told me one thing.

I was already too deep. And tomorrow after practice, when Jamal had me bent over in the equipment room and the cheerleader walked in on us with that slow “Well… well… well…”, everything was about to get a whole lot messier.

I just didn’t know how messy yet.