Good Girl For Mr Reid 5

♥ ZOE ♥

I didn’t go straight home.

I sat in my car in the nearly empty parking lot for a long time with my hands on the steering wheel, legs still trembling. Every time I shifted in the seat I felt the dull ache between my thighs and the slow leak of Mr. Reid’s cum that my panties weren’t fully stopping. My ass still burned from the spanking. My nipples were sore where he had pinched them. I could still taste him on my tongue.

I looked at myself in the rearview mirror. My lipstick was gone. My hair was a mess. My cheeks were flushed. I looked like I had just been thoroughly fucked in a classroom.

Because I had.

I drove home in silence, went straight to the shower, and stood under the hot water until my skin turned pink. Even after I washed him off me, my body still felt marked. When I finally got into bed I lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying every second — the way he had ordered me to count the spanks, the way his tongue had felt, the way he had filled me and then made me thank him for it.

I fell asleep with my hand between my legs and his voice still in my head.

MR. REID

I stayed in the classroom long after she left.

The room still smelled like sex. I could still see the faint handprints on the edge of my desk where she had gripped it. I sat in my chair and stared at the spot where she had been bent over, bare and shaking and dripping.

I had crossed every professional line that existed.

And I already knew I was going to do it again.

I packed my bag slowly, turned off the lights, and locked the classroom door. The hallway was empty. My cock twitched at the memory of her voice when she said “Yes, sir” at the end.

Next week.

I already planned on making her wait the full hour before I touched her again. Just to watch her squirm.

♥ ZOE ♥

The following week dragged.

Every time I sat in his class I felt his eyes on me. He never called on me. He never singled me out. He just taught like nothing had happened. But when the bell rang on Friday and everyone else started packing up, he looked straight at me and said, calm as anything:

“Zoe. Stay after.”

My stomach dropped and clenched at the same time.

The other students left. The door clicked shut. The blinds were already half-closed.

Mr. Reid leaned against his desk and looked me over. I had worn a skirt again, just like he told me to. No tights.

“Come here.”

I walked to him on legs that already felt unsteady. He didn’t make me bend over right away this time. Instead he reached under my skirt and cupped me between the legs, over my panties, feeling how warm I already was.

“You’ve been thinking about last week,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good.” He rubbed me slowly through the fabric until my breathing changed. “Because this time you’re not leaving until I decide you’ve learned something.”

He turned me around, lifted my skirt, and pulled my panties down to my knees. Then he bent me over the desk again. I heard the soft sound of him opening a drawer. A moment later something cool and smooth pressed against my entrance.

I looked back. He was holding a small, dark toy — tapered, with a flared base.

“You’re going to wear this while I grade papers,” he said. “If it slips out, I’ll add more spanks to the ones you’re already owed. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He pushed the toy inside me slowly. It wasn’t huge, but it stretched me enough that I gasped. Once it was seated he gave my ass a light slap and pulled my panties back up, trapping the toy inside me.

“Sit,” he ordered, pointing at the chair in front of his desk. “Hands on your knees. Don’t move.”

I sat. The toy shifted inside me with every tiny movement. Mr. Reid went back to his chair, opened a folder, and started grading like this was normal. Every so often he glanced up at me. Every time I fidgeted the toy pressed against that sensitive spot and I had to bite my lip to stay quiet.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. My thighs were pressed tightly together. I was soaked and aching.

Finally he closed the folder.

“Stand up. Bend over the desk. Panties down.”

I obeyed so fast it was embarrassing. He stepped behind me, pulled the toy out slowly, and set it on the desk beside my head so I could see how wet it was. Then he spanked me — harder than last week — counting out loud while I gasped and tried to stay still.

When he reached twenty he stopped, spread me open with his thumbs, and licked me from behind in long, filthy strokes until I was shaking and begging. He made me come on his tongue with my cheek pressed to the wood and my hands gripping the far edge of the desk.

Only then did he stand up, free his cock, and push inside me in one deep thrust.

He fucked me slower this time — deep, deliberate strokes that made me feel every inch — while he talked in that same calm teacher voice.

“This is what detention is for now. You’re going to stay after every Friday. You’re going to take whatever I give you. And you’re going to thank me when I’m done.”

“Yes, sir—” I moaned.

He reached under me and rubbed my clit in tight circles until I came again, clenching around him hard enough that he cursed under his breath. He followed a few thrusts later, burying himself deep and filling me for the second week in a row.

When he pulled out he turned me around, made me get on my knees, and had me clean his cock with my mouth while his cum leaked down my thighs.

Afterward he fixed his clothes, helped me stand, and straightened my skirt for me like he hadn’t just ruined me over his desk.

“Same time next week,” he said quietly. “Don’t make me remind you.”

I nodded, throat tight.

“Yes, sir.”

I left the classroom again with his cum inside me and the clear understanding that this was no longer a one-time mistake.

It was an arrangement.

And I already knew I would keep showing up.