The fixation on Tristan was more than his looks, it was the fact he was forbidden fruit. The other men Miranda had thought of prior to him, and still interacted with now. could be had with no repercussions.
But Tristan was the double whammy of being off limits due to her profession, and the taboo of his age. As much of a man as he was physically, he was still a kid to her. She’d played it off with Susan, but Miranda was aware of the popularity of cougars and milfs.
She also knew that their conversation about how every longtime teacher, male or female, who taught at Highschool, and college level had the thought of a student pass through their mind, even if fleetingly.
That went double for students. Many students had fantasies of an attractive teacher, some to the same level of infatuation she was experiencing. Over the years Miranda had wondered how many students had thought of her?
Fantasizing of her going down on them, going down on her, fucking her. But there was a difference. They were young and at an age where hormones, lust, and plain old fashioned horniness overwhelmed rational thought and what was right or wrong.
Miranda was the other side of things. She was an older experienced woman, who should be well beyond her sex drive controlling her. Most importantly she knew right and wrong and there was nothing right about her having a sexual crush on one of her pupils.
But the last three months logic and ethics, took a backseat to unbridled lust and rampant fantasies. Miranda struggled to call on him in class, because even though there was no need to, Tristan always stood when he replied to her or the class, and she struggled to keep her eyes from his crotch.
It was a sad day for her as a professional when she’d caved to temptation and fed her fantasies by wearing a too tight sweater with a plunging neckline that bordered on improper, and a skirt a few inches above her knees and much snugger than her usual attire.
She had seen him using his phone under his desk and used it as an opportunity to get close and give him a view. To her carnal delight, his eyes had immediately gone where she’d hoped they would, and she remained leaning over while telling him he should know better than to be using his phone.
He’d apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again, but even as he spoke his eyes lingered on her breasts which were encased in a red Victoria Secret bra which pushed them up even higher.
When she felt she’d been there long enough without looking obvious, Miranda had turned away, then added to her shame when she then leaned over the shoulder of another student who she’d noticed had briefly had social media open on her laptop.
She bent over further than needed, now giving Tristan a look at her ass, and although she didn’t glance back, she could feel his gaze on her. Others may have been looking too, but she only cared about him.
Miranda would love to say that was rock bottom, but her brief Mrs. Robinson tease was nothing compared to her dreams which had become much more frequent and far more vivid.
Yesterday, the day after Susan had brought her coffee, Miranda had spent the day, then a good part of the evening, at home grading the finals. As soon as she finished with Tristan’s, thoughts that made her prior ones look virtuous began to nag at her.
The absolute worse thoughts a teacher, or anyone in a position of authority over impressionable young people could have. Thoughts of putting her lust before her job. Of taking advantage of her position and of someone who no matter what he looked like was still a damn kid.
Or was he? No boy with Tristan’s looks was a virgin. Hell, a hot kid who played sports, he was probably going through coeds like a knife through butter. She wouldn’t be asking him to do anything he’d never done before.
Just to do it with a woman his mother’s age who happened to be his professor.
Miranda struggled to stem the flow of those thoughts. There were things one shouldn’t entertain even in fantasy. Worried it would dominate her nightly me time session, she went back to her pre divorce mentality and forced herself to go to bed without relieving herself of her just about permanent state of arousal these days.
The result was to wake from a dream so potent that as she lay there with her heart racing, and nipples and clit aching, she could still see it as clearly as she had dreamt it. Even now the details were etched into her mind. Her over her desk, her blouse open, tits popped out of her bra and her skirt up over her hips. One knee up on the desk and her thong pulled to the side while being fucked from behind.
The streaks of mascara down her cheeks, and her red lipstick smeared around her mouth spoke of having her face fucked before she’d assumed the position to get the good hard fucking she desperately needed.
A bright red outline of a hand decorated the cheek of her ass, and her head being pulled back by the fist wrapped tightly in her hair. Their other hand gripping her ankle just above the strap of her black stiletto, the one pair of fuck me shoes she owned.
Miranda could hear flesh pounding flesh, her grunting and yipping from the impact and deep penetration. Her hands gripped the edge of the desks, her fingers white knuckled from squeezing it. Her large breasts bouncing from the force of her lover’s thrusts.
“Yes, baby, yes!” she cried out. Her voice was hoarse, and Miranda knew it was from her throat being used as roughly as her grateful cunt currently was.
“Harder!” she continued. “Fuck me harder!”
“Yes, ma’am!” A breathy voice said from behind her, and in that moment the angle of the view widened, allowing her to see who was fucking her.
Of course, it was Tristan.
Shirtless, his jeans down around his knees, muscles flexing in his chest and arms as he took her like she was some drunk coed he’d scored at a frat party. Taking her with a cock her imagination had made to match that damned bulge.
Long, thick, glistening from his teachers wet needy cunt, and blessed with the energy and stamina only a boy half her age could exhibit. Youth, enthusiasm, and lust, combined to have his teacher shamelessly begging for more.
Tristan moaned her name, gave her several more thrusts, then pulled his cock from inside her. Miranda’s dream self turned and dropped to her knees, her mouth wide open and her hands under her tits, offering them to him.
His first squirt went into her mouth, the second splattered her right cheek. He kept stroking, hitting her chin, then aiming lower and catching each of her heaving breasts with a pearly white stripe of cum.
Miranda pushed his cum out of her mouth with her tongue, sending it flowing down her chin like a porn star wannabe. When Tristan pushed the oozing head of his cock against her sticky lips, she obediently parted them and slurped him into her mouth.