The Prophesied Claim

When I took the job teaching history at the local middle school, I thought it would be a fun way to earn money. I'd get to work with low-income, needy students, and talk about a subject I loved all day. I was an i***t. By the end of the first semester, I was bored and frustrated. The school district had few resources, and the students were more concerned about the history of Jay-Z and Beyonce than that of Abraham Lincoln and the Emancipation Proclamation. I was considering a change in occupation, that is, until the day the classroom catastrophe hit. As a teacher, there's nothing worse than working your way through a note-taking session and suddenly having two teenage boys go at each other like animals. There I am, pointing at the projector screen, delving into the topic of concentration camp life in Buchenwald, and these enormous eighth grade boys shove their desks aside with an unholy screech and slam together in the middle of the open space. Dumbfounded, I stopped mid-sentence, and slammed my pointer against the floor. They didn't react to the noise of the cracking sound as the wooden stick hit the floor, and the rest of the class started forming a circle around the sound of smacking flesh. Encouraging their classmates to kill one another. I rushed across the room and stabbed the buzzer on the wall, yelling at the boys to stop fighting (our district policy is to call for security; not interfere for fear you will be "accidently" injured in such situations). The crackly sound of the speaker came out across the classroom, "Office." "I need security right now. There's a fight." "Oh my. They're on their way Ms. Madison." They're on their way took less than two minutes, but I was already across the room shoving students apart before they arrived. I yelled at the non-fighters to go to the hallway, and the anger on my face must have been pretty motivating because within thirty seconds the classroom was clear except for the fighting boys. When the security guys rushed the room, my students were seated quietly on the floor in the hallway, and the two fighters were slowing down in the middle of the classroom. Fights start fast, but they end slowly as the combatants typically wear each other down, or stop altogether when no one else is watching. The security guards are always off-duty policemen, typically the older rotund type, so when Adonis himself rushed the room and grabbed the bigger of the two students in a full nelson, I was awestruck by his beauty and youth. I mean, seriously, other than late night TV shows, the life of a teacher is pretty much confined to grading papers, planning papers, and delivering lessons. Especially in a district like mine. So, while I should have been returning to the hallway to monitor my students, I was instead salivating over the tight ass of one very ripped security guard. Though he was obviously in combat mode, wrestling my erstwhile student to the ground to be handcuffed, he didn't seem to be breaking a sweat. Instead, his black hair was only slightly ruffled, giving him the appearance of having just awakened, and his square jaw was only partially formed into the grimace I would expect from cops wrestling i***t kids for such violations of school policy. As I watched the rippling muscles in his arms, I could feel my n*****s harden against the thin lace of my bra. When he looked up, it seemed his eyes zeroed in on the hard points. Embarrassed at my inappropriate reaction to the performance of his job, and really interested in how I'd missed the newest addition to the security team, I hastily crossed my arms. I could have sworn he winked at me as he started pushing his captured student towards the door. Right before he left, he turned and said, "I'll be by during your prep to take your statement." The sound of his voice was husky and deep, and I blushed as I felt myself dampen with the heat of desire. Such an innocuous comment shouldn't have elicited such a reaction. I hadn't realized I was so needy, but if just the sound of his voice, the connection of his green eyes with mine could have that effect, I needed to have a night out and treat myself to some recreational s*x immediately. These thoughts at the forefront of my mind, I watched him frog march my student down the hallway, admiring the way his duty belt hung low on his hips and his upper body formed that fabulous v-shape where it connected with his waist. I felt the urge to fan my hot face, but tried to compose myself to a more professional level as I ushered my students back into the classroom, and absently thanked the other, nondescript security officer for his help. I spent the remainder of the class sorting out discipline paperwork, and assigning meaningless busywork to the rest of the students in what I claimed was a necessity to complete all of the forms that accompanied such incidents in the classroom. In reality, I was still trying to compose myself after such a brief encounter. I saw him in the hallway during passing period, but he did nothing but give me a small salute as he continued to make his rounds, talking to students, and barking out orders when chaos seemed to erupt around him. The butterflies in my stomach only worsened each time he passed the door of my classroom. Occasionally, he would peek in to check the discipline of the class, and each time, I felt myself dampen impossibly against the lace of my panties. When he spoke to the other teachers, I could feel their admiration, and felt a surge of jealousy darken my heart. Though he never directly spoke to me, and we had no real interactions, I didn't want others to be the recipients of his voice, his words, or his attention. I wanted him to notice me, and only me. Realizing the crazed direction of my thoughts, and feeling an increasingly hot urge to rub myself against him like a cat in heat each time he passed by in the hallway, I stopped going to the door during passing period. But the knowledge he was out there didn't calm my racing heartbeat. I escaped to the restroom during my lunch period, and pushed my hot forehead against the door of the stall, wishing I had a pocket vibrator in my hand. Instead, I pushed my hand between my legs and felt the swelling of my nether lips, the sticky dampness of my desire coating my fingers. I knew I couldn't concentrate on the horrors of concentration camps, if all I could think about was having my hot security guard bend me over my desk and f**k me until I screamed. I'd listened to the mundane discussions of the faculty lunchroom, only mildly interested in the happenings of the day, and had easily worked the conversation around to the fight in my classroom. Attempting to uncaringly work my way around to the topic of the new security guard. Of course, the older ladies were well aware of his presence and couldn't wait to expound upon his stellar policing abilities, though like me, they were more interested in extolling the way his uniform fit his ass. Any other time, I would have shrugged off their naughty comments, but I found their knowledge in the face of my lack only served to further annoy me. They couldn't seem to remember his name, only that he'd participated in some bad ass work in recent months and been hired for off-duty work at the school just last week. When I couldn't take the conversation any longer, I made my excuses and left, pretending to need a pee break when I really needed a little time alone. Now, rolling my head against the stall door, I shut my eyes and imagined the way it would be when he slid his hand up my skirt, pushing aside the lace panel of my panties to run his fingers around my dampened slit. I could see myself unhooking the clips of his duty belt and sliding his zipper down to free his hardened c**k from the confines of black boxer briefs. I wanted to slide my lips around his d**k, and lick my way down his balls, until I felt his hands pulling my hair, and his hips thrusting uncontrollably into my mouth. I wanted the evidence of his desire to shoot down my throat, across my face, and inside my rippling vaginal walls. I wanted him to f**k me in front of the gossiping lunchroom ladies, pull his tight ass into me, and ride his c**k until he came inside me, just to make them jealous. Then, I wanted to do it all over again until I was so exhausted I had to crawl away. The thought of being so bad, of f*****g him until I couldn't stand had me sliding the crotch of my panties out of the way and leaning my body against the walls of the cramped bathroom stall. I defended my actions as being pertinent to the safety of that man, and my clean police record. I didn't want to be charged with s****l harassment, but if he came into my classroom when I practically orgasmed just by looking at his biceps, I was bound to say, or do, something vastly inappropriate. That was enough of an incentive for me to slide my fingertips around my c**t a little faster, wondering if he was as good with his tongue as the old ladies said he was with his gun. I wanted to be on my A game when I had to give my statement, and I couldn't if the only thing I could think of was the size of his c**k inside those uniform pants, or how it would feel if he slid it into my hot, wet, cunt. Pinching my n*****s with one hand, I continued to rub circles around my swollen c**t, faster and faster as I felt the orgasm building inside me. I imagined what it would be like if he put his hands where mine were, if his mouth covered my slit and suckled my c**t into his mouth. I couldn't control myself as I thrust my fingers inside my opening, over and over again, feeling myself dampen impossibly. I rubbed more, and squeezed my n*****s harder, seeing the white teeth of his mouth where my fingers pinched, but I couldn't seem to climax. I needed something more. Looking down, I saw the travel toothbrush holder sticking out of my lunch box, and grabbed the plastic case. Repositioning myself to lean against the stall wall, I placed the rounded plastic tube against my opening and imagined it was his d**k hesitating at my opening. I thrust it inside me, rubbing hard against my c**t as I pushed the tube into myself over and over, faster and faster. In my head I saw his face above me, and could feel his d**k inside me. Finally, the orgasm washed over me, my v****a clenching around the toothbrush holder. I congratulated myself for my ingenuity, but it wasn't relief I felt. Instead, it felt like a precursor to something more. Instead of feeling completion, I felt emptiness and a heightened sense of desire. I was patently aware of the dripping wetness that accompanied my orgasm, and the need to smear that dampness against the hardened c**k of my security guard. Frustrated at both my behavior, and my inability to relieve myself of s****l frustration, I banged my head against the stall door, consigning myself to extreme discomfort for the remainder of the day. Adjusting my soaked panties, and thanking God I'd worn a black skirt to hide the wetness that just kept coming, I washed my hands in the bathroom sink, noting the lambency of my eyes and flush of my skin. I pressed a dampened paper towel against my forehead, and tried to keep the shakiness of my limbs from being noticed by the older librarian scrubbing her lunch container in the sink next to me. Three hours later, I could still feel the dampness between my legs. Instead of lessening, it only worsened until I felt the uncomfortable urge to touch myself for a little relief. I couldn't imagine getting through the remaining hour of the school day with the tightness of my breasts and the itchy neediness that had my skin crawling with s****l desire. I was irritable with my students, and blamed it on the fight during second period. They didn't question my annoyance, but accepted it, even acting apologetic that their classmates had put such a damper on my day. I didn't correct their assumptions, but continued my lectures, trying to ignore the heightened feeling of my lacy bra cupping my breasts, the way it scratched against my sensitive n*****s each time I used my pointer to indicate information on the projector screen, and the nearly incapacitating feeling of my panties rubbing against my c**t each time I moved across the classroom. Little shockwaves moved through my body, reminding me that my lunchtime playtime hadn't done nearly the job I had needed it too, only making me edgier than before I'd sought self-relief in the women's restroom. Thankfully, my prep period was the last period of the day, and I would be able to sit nonchalantly behind my desk, and pretend to work on something of importance, while fantasizing about naughtier topics. My desk faced the door, but I knew that if I was careful and closed the door, I could push my skirt up enough to massage my aching c**t. I knew once wouldn't be nearly enough to take away the stinging desire I was feeling, but I couldn't very well order a man, and it'd be after five o'clock before I could prowl the bars for a f**k buddy. With the way I was aching, I knew I couldn't wait that long to feel a d**k inside me, and if I didn't at least give myself a breather I'd be attacking the first hard c**k that crossed my path, when all I really wanted was to climb all over the hottie downstairs. When the bell rang for seventh period, I waited for the last student to leave the classroom before exhaling heavily and reaching for the door handle, already anticipating the momentary relief of shoving my fingers inside my slit, and rubbing my c**t until it sang. I started to pull the heavy wooden door closed when a large hand reached around and grabbed the wooden panel before it connected with the lock. Inside, I wanted to scream in frustration, feeling a panicked feeling set-in at the idea of entertaining company when I was about to implode from frustrated desire, but when I connected that hand to its owner's face, I felt a quiet little moan well-up inside. My legs turned to jelly, and I had to lean heavily against the door frame, as my new favorite security guard stepped in close to me. I inhaled the spicy scent of his cologne, and thought I'd pass out from the need to wrack his bones. Instinctively, I arched my back, pushing my breasts out above the top of my conservative v-neck, and accidently brushing my pelvis against the rock-hard muscle of his upper thigh. The contact of his leg with my c**t sent a shock through my body that had my hands clenching against the doorway I was leaning into. For a moment, I thought he pushed that thigh harder into my crotch, rubbing a little against me, but before I could determine whether it was my imagination, or reality, his leg was gone and his face was looking broodily into mine. Instead of admonishing me for my seriously unprofessional behavior, or showing any shock at my sudden sluttiness, his big hand found my waist. Cupping my rib cage, he moved me from the doorway and firmly closed the door behind him. Neither of us had spoken, but I couldn't read the look on his face and felt embarrassed by my uncharacteristic behavior. Though he hadn't really rejected my not-so-subtle advances, he hadn't really responded either. I tried to straighten myself out, once again crossing my arms across my diamond hard n*****s, as he turned to me and said, "I need to take your statement." While his voice dripped sexiness, his comment didn't inspire confidence in my need to f**k his brains out. Disappointment surged through me. It wasn't a surprise he was here, he had told me he'd be back to take my statement, but I would have preferred some sign he wanted to push his c**k inside me as much as I wanted him to. I shoved a shaking hand into my hair, "Right. Yeah. Um." I looked around for a place to sit, and an idea started to form in my head. I pointed to the place in the far corner of the room, hidden from view from the window pane in the door frame. It was the only place in the entire classroom that couldn't be seen with the door shut, and the hallway cameras couldn't record inside the room. It'd been designed in case of an intruder, where students could shelter without fear of being seen, but I was thinking of another use for that particular area of the classroom. A little way to test his potential desire, while also providing me a way to relieve my own. "We can sit over there, and I'll try to tell you everything I can about what happened." He raised his eyebrow at my selection, but moved toward the small carpeted area without protest. Choosing one of the beanbags on the floor, he settled into it, pulling out a notebook, and crooking a finger at me. Knowing I wouldn't be able to sit on the floor because of the tightness of my skirt, I stood in front of him and used the palms of my hands to slowly pull it further up my thighs. I slid the silky material up until the lace at the tops of my knee-high stockings were clearly visible with their garter belt clasps. I heard his deep exhale, and looked up to see his stoic face had a slight flush around the cheekbones. I reached behind me for the stool I sometimes used to sit at the podium, and perched my ass on the edge of its seat, placing my heeled boots along the foot rest. The position forced me to spread my legs wider and allowed me to lean my back against the support. I trailed my hand down the front of my body until my fingers rested just above the edge of my skirt. I knew he could see the lace covering my crotch from his position seated on the floor, and from the look on his face, I didn't think he was trying to avoid the view. His hand was clenched around the notebook he held, his breathing deepening as he continued to watch me seated on the edge of the stool. Enjoying myself, and wanting to see just how much of my fantasy I could incite, I slid my hand under the edge of the skirt, gathering the material on my wrist as I pushed my way toward that sweet spot between my legs. I allowed my legs to spread wider, and ran my fingers along the front of my crotch, letting him hear me moan softly as I touched myself in front of him. Skimming the edge of my panties, I hooked a finger in the material and started to pull it aside, letting him see how damp my pink interior was for him. The bean bag rustled as he shifted his seat, his own hand dropping the notebook to rest on the erection I could see straining the front of his pants. "Like what you see?" I asked pulling the panties completely aside, pushing my pelvis forward on the chair, until the evidence of my desire was fully exposed for his perusal. He nodded wordlessly and demanded, "Show me more." Taking my fingers to my mouth, I wet them needlessly, and slid them against my c**t, rubbing myself and rocking my hips, before thrusting them fully inside myself. I moaned, and wiggled. His eyes locked with mine and his hand moved harder against himself. "I've been thinking about you all day," I whispered as my fingers continued to dance, "Do you want to see me c*m? I'm going to, thinking about your hard c**k inside me." "Do it. Rub yourself. Let me hear you." Using two of my fingers, I flicked at my c**t, rubbing and circling until I felt my vaginal walls begin to ripple. I moaned harshly as the orgasm began to wash over me, my skin heating as I saw the awe on his face as he witnessed my private little performance. When my v****a stopped clenching, and my c**t was throbbing in the aftermath, he said, "Why don't you come down here with me?" I laughed huskily, licking the fingers soaked with my orgasm, "Sorry, but I can't sit on the floor in this skirt." With the quickness of a snake, he reached out and grabbed the backs of my thighs in his hands, tugging me forward until I was standing with my legs on either side of his. My skirt stuck halfway up my thighs, and my crotch was level with the heat of his mouth. "How about my face," he whispered even as he pushed the skirt up higher to expose the black lace of my panties, and the red garter belt holding everything in place. I moaned at the feel of his breath against that part of me, and grabbed his head in my hands as his tongue flicked out to the taste the dampness of the lace. Uncaring about what he thought, just needing him to touch me, I pulled the lacy panel aside and pushed my crotch into his mouth, grinding the dampness of my c**t against his smooth lips. Wordlessly demanding he do as I commanded. I felt the vibration of his mouth against my damp c**t, and the brush of his fingers as they raced up the inside of my thigh, coming to rest just outside my slick opening, where I'd imagined his c**k thrusting all day. I gyrated and tried to force his fingers inside me, but he held them back, only flicking them against my damp heat when I needed them thrusting inside. I tried to push down, but he held me still. I tried to grab his wrist, but he slapped my ass, causing a shock of desire to harden my n*****s and a moan to escape my throat. In response to his reticence, and the building desire he was causing, I pulled his hair until I could rub my slit over his mouth. "Lick me all over," I demanded, and began rubbing myself harder against his lips, feeling his tongue come out to rub wetly against my c**t. "Faster," I commanded, "Flick it until I c*m all over you. Make me scream for it." He growled low in his throat, that clever tongue coming out to swipe against my aching c**t. Over and over again it raced and rubbed until I felt my insides begin to clench and roll in the familiar building before the climax. It wasn't enough. I felt myself balanced on the precipice and bucked against him demanding my orgasm. Demanding he make me c*m hard against him. But I needed more, I needed to feel his fingers inside me, and then his c**k. I needed to see him pushing himself into me over and over again until we both came. I needed to feel his hands slap my ass as he thrust inside, and his fingers circle my throat as I started to c*m. I needed him to push his c**k into my mouth and down my throat until his hot c*m spilled over my face and I licked him clean. I hadn't realized I'd been speaking my thoughts out loud, awash in my own frustrated desire, but suddenly he was flipping me onto the beanbag and trying to tear the duty belt from his hips. Greedily, I spread my legs wide and pulled my shirt from over my head. Cupping my breast in one hand I pinched the n****e slightly, even as I trailed my hand below to once again rub against my c**t. I watched him struggle to undo his uniform pants, fighting the zipper until it slid down and his c**k sprang free from a bed of wiry black hair. Its length made me moan and dip my fingers inside myself, my vaginal walls clenching and squeezing against the invasion of my fingers. Then, I felt the head of his c**k brush against my lips, and the salty taste of his precum coated my mouth. I opened for him, and he thrust into the wetness of my mouth, letting me suck him in, taste him needily, all the while whispering words of encouragement to me. I cupped his balls, and gently massaged his sac, feeling it tighten as his c**k hardened more at the deep suckling I performed. Just as I'd imagined in the bathroom stall, he sank his hands into the silk of my hair and tugged me harder against him, thrusting almost uncontrollably into my mouth until I thought I'd gag from how deep his d**k could go. Even as the pressure of his thrusts bordered on pain, I relaxed my head and throat, gripping his tight ass in both hands to urge him deeper still. The moans coming from him were animalistic in their growls, coming from some deep place inside him, prompting me to suckle harder, lick faster. Our eyes connected and I could feel the power of his desire grow even more. But it wasn't enough for either of us, I moaned against his c**k, pleading, and saw his eyes darken before he jerked himself from my mouth. Grabbing my hips in his hands, he turned me on all fours and crowded in close behind me. "Don't scream," he warned even as I felt the hard knob of his c**k slam into my wet walls. He bent over me from behind, catching the delicate skin between my neck and shoulder between his teeth and biting down hard. Showing his dominance, his possession of me. I shoved my fist in my mouth as I felt myself shatter around him. As the combination of his c**k inside me, and his teeth biting against me threw me into climax. The orgasm washed over me in waves, making me buck back against him, fighting his possession even as I wanted it to never stop. My movements forced him to wrestle me to the ground so he could grind himself inside me over and over again, using the bean bag to lift my ass in an arch, allowing him to push even deeper into me. Even as the first orgasm ended, I could feel the next one build as he bumped the hard head of his d**k against my cervix, a shiver raced over my still vibrating body, when he reached around and rubbed his hand over my c**t, I bit the inside of my mouth until it bled, needing to scream my completion. Moving me like a rag doll, he turned us until once again he rested against the bean bag, and I was above him, riding his c**k, breasts dancing above his mouth. Wanting him to c*m, needing to feel him explode inside me and know he had wanted this as much as I, but not ready for it to be over, I thrust my n****e towards him mouth, feeling his tongue flicker out to tease the ripe bud. The feeling caused my vaginal walls to ripple and grip his hard p***s, eliciting another growl from his chest, and a bite against the n****e he was suckling. In punishment, I ground my pelvis into his, moving fast on him, and then paused, teasing us both, riding his d**k until I could feel the familiar vibration inside myself and couldn't stop the moans emanating from my chest. He slapped one hand over my mouth, trying to silence the sound as it grew in volume, the other going to my ass to hold me against him as he hardened impossibly inside me. I saw his eyes begin to slit, as he rode closer to his own orgasm. I paused again, pulling myself above him until only the tip was still bathed in my juices. He removed his hand from my mouth and wrapped it around my throat, what I needed, and I slammed down against him, feeling the combination of his hand and his c**k rock my body with desire. Gripping the muscles of his pecs in my hands I thrust against him, riding him harder, bouncing us against the bean bag, my breath catching in my throat, leaning into the grip of his hand to prolong the orgasm I knew was about to explode in us both. He started to struggle against me, thrusting up, moving both hands to my hips to hold me to him as his head went back and the feel of his sperm coating my walls began to jet inside me. The feeling of his ejaculation, the look upon his face, and the harsh groan that escaped his chest caused another orgasm, stronger than the last, to rip through my body until I was bucking uncontrollably on top of his c**k. A keening wail sounded, and my entire body shook against him. When it was over, and we were both shivering from the aftershocks, I wilted onto his chest, finally feeling relief from the frustration that had plagued me since the moment I had laid eyes on his fine ass. Breathing in the sweating smell of his cologne, and basking in the deep satisfaction of having ridden his c**k to completion, I traced the whorls of hair across his stomach, and leaned up to whisper into his ear, "You can take my statement now."