She bobbed her head, her eyes rolling back as she sucked while his cum dripped down her face and slid over her tits to land on her stomach and thighs.
“That’s it, suck it,” Tristan moaned, grabbing her hair and shoving his cock balls deep down her throat. “You really needed this didn’t you, Professor?”
“Hmm!” she agreed as she noisily slurped on his still hard dick.
“Needy, desperate, and pathetic,” he whispered pulling his cock from between her lips. “Look at you, middle aged woman on her knees with cum on her face. Taking advantage of a student and trading a grade for a fuck, having me pretend I really want your used up cunt, and not just doing what I have too.”
Even at the end of a hot dream her misgivings had risen to bite her in the ass. Dream Tristan’s derision was her subconscious self-loathing making itself known in the midst of her forbidden passion.
Yet the imagery of the dream up until those last few seconds had her so wet her panties peeled from her sticky flesh when she’d rolled over. Miranda had crossed her legs and ground her thighs together, squirming on the bed and whimpering like a teenage girl who hadn’t learned how to masturbate yet.
She tried to resist, but her body was in overdrive, and with an air of surrender she bent her legs, lifted her ass, and pulled her panties off. Miranda didn’t stop there. Sitting up she stripped off the plain black T-shirt she wore to bed and tossed it away.
She lay back completely naked and opened her legs so wide, she could hook her ankles along the edge of the mattress on either side of her. Her need was so urgent she didn’t take the time to grab her vibe or bullet.
Miranda shoved both hands between her flushed sweaty thighs and buried two fingers in her soaking slit while rubbing her clit with so hard and fast it bordered on violent.
She came like an animal, throwing her head back and crying out so loudly she felt that Mary and her husband, whose bedroom was above hers, had to hear her. She continued to pleasure herself as she writhed on the bed, moaning as her mind filled with the image of her being fucked over the desk.
When she finished, she lay there for a few minutes, trying to calm herself down and when it didn’t happen, she masturbated a second time. This time more slowly, entertaining herself with images of Tristan going down on her, making her come in his face while she thrashed on her desk.
The desk she’d cleaned off in between appointments today so the only items left on it were the phone, and the laptop. Miranda had to clean it anyway with tomorrow being her last day, but she knew damn well she was playing a dangerous game with herself.
A game that led to the way she was dressed. Miranda had been seeing students all day. Everything from haggling their grades to letters to a few who popped in to say goodbye and wished her luck at her next job.
A few fellow professors and other school staff had dropped in to say the same. Sitting behind her desk, Miranda looked quite professional. A brick red blazer over a sheer white long sleeve blouse buttoned up to the collar.
The buttoned blazer covered the fact the inappropriate blouse showed off the black bra beneath it. The Victoria secret bra which featured half cups leaving the inner portion of her breasts bare and were as sheer as her blouse. A strategically placed small pink bow covered each of her rosy nipples, but everything else was on display.
From the waist down, Miranda’s ensemble was harder to hide and why she’d remained seated all day, calling for people to come in, and only rising a couple times to give a co-worker a hug goodbye.
She stayed behind the desk even for that, only easing around enough to embrace them and not stepping out in the open. If she had they’d see her black skirt was short enough to identify as a mini.
Thigh length and snug fitting, it showed off the curve of her hips and ass, and showed an improper-for a 45 year old teacher anyway-amount of leg. Her legs were accentuated by the pair of heels she’d dug out of the closet after seeing them in her dream.
Black stilettos she could barely walk in and had brought into the school in the box she’d brought to pack up her personal belongings. Once settled in, she’d slid off the sensible pumps she’d arrived in, and slipped on the heels, which featured a strap along the length of the top of her foot, one that buckled around her ankle.
The fuck me shoes she hadn’t worn since their cruise to celebrate their fifteenth anniversary at a time she could not only walk, but dance in them, then left them on for the real celebration back when they had a good sex life.
But even back then he’d been fooling around with her best friend.
“None of that,” she told herself as she looked down at her bright red painted toes peeking out from the open front of the shoe.
No more living in the past, today closed a chapter for her, and a new one would soon be opening. New state, new job, new life, and hopefully some new fun. But for her last day part of her was determined to take Susan’s advice when she’d told her to go out with a bang.
The other part knew she was just toying with herself. There was no way she was going to go through with it. In fact, “it” might not even exist. It would all depend on what she was going to insist on being a professional conversation.
Maybe Tristan didn’t even want to discuss his grade. She didn’t know his exact situation so maybe he only wanted a recommendation or to say goodbye. Miranda told herself that although he’d be saying goodbye to her with her hair down and brushed out and her lips in the same slut red as her fingers and toes, it meant nothing.
Just how she decided to dress for her last day. After all, what said departing teacher better than trashy make up, party heels and a pair of pink trimmed lace black Cheekini panties.
Miranda had bought them a year ago and just opened the package this morning. She owned a few thongs but liked the way these covered more of her ass, showing it off through the lace, but not allowing for as much bare flesh.
A compromise between a coed and an old lady when it came to underwear, she thought wryly. On the surface Miranda was dressed like a porn star ready to do a teacher themed shoot, but inside she told herself she was just indulging a fantasy, and maybe getting a few appraising looks from Tristan and nothing more.
Because there would be nothing more, dammit. She wasn’t that horny or desperate.