PART 1
Senior year of high school was so nasty. Nasty nasty time. It was that few months where I had already gotten into the college I had EDed to and none of my friends had yet, so they were all obsessed with grades and doing well but school and I was out of there in every way but physical. I was rolling out of bed in my cum-covered pajamas (I said nasty, alright?) and a hoodie from the “not necessarily dirty” pile, maybe soccer shorts if I was feeling good that day, getting to school 40 minutes late, and staring at the ceiling until the day ended. All of my classes were the god awful ones you put on your schedule to look good for college and don’t think about until you have to take them – Advanced Calculus I (barf), French Immersion through Films (double barf), and Moby Dick class with Mr. Kaufman.
Oh, Mr. Kaufman. I had such a bad crush on him the first time I had him for my 10th grade English class, but I never let it stray from what I saw in front of me. The scruffy fur on his arms. His long greying hair I wanted to run my paws through. His smile every time I stumbled my way through an argument about Animal Farm or Julius Caesar he liked.
I was never great in English, or as my ninth grade English teacher said, “Bailey’s grasp of the age-appropriate concepts leaves something to be desired.” Maybe moving from Boston to rural Washington had something to do with my ability to be understood. Regardless (see, a big word!) Mr. Kaufman must have seen something in me, because I didn’t completely bomb that class. My essays had potential to him. He always drew little images of dogs smiling next to my 85s, always commented that I was improving.
That probably had something to do with my crush on him. Nobody had ever given me attention like that before. So maybe when he bent over and I would stare at his ass in his dress pants, my heart would flutter like it never had before. Maybe I thought about kissing the tip of his dog muzzle more than I thought about Rainer Maria Rilke. Who could blame me?
When I was making my schedule at the beginning of senior year, I put Mr. Kaufman’s Moby Dick class in my 3rd semester slot. One, I needed an English class and two, I knew he wouldn’t be a hardass on me for not paying attention that hard, but three, I knew I’d have something nice to look at instead of pretending to read the book. I wasn’t even really thinking about it. It would look good on my resume. That’s it.
When I had Mr. Kaufman’s class for the first time, he gave me that same grin as I entered through the door. I knew I would be having a good time as I picked that seat in the very back of the class. 2:30 PM with the sun shining through the window and a bunch of nerds in front of me trying to get into every Ivy League at once. Mr. Kaufman was so beautiful. Never married, a little bit of tummy fat bounding at his soft soft sweater, tail swaying softly in the afternoon light. Recipe for something naaaasty. Something awful had happened between sophomore year and senior year, so 18-year-old me was not afraid of skipping over the pleasantries and diving right into imagining everything I wanted to in the back of that class. Mr. Kaufman’s soft tongue lapping at my asshole, him fucking me with every ounce of pent-up energy he has after a long class over his desk, his paw covering my muzzle so no one would hear us, sucking his dick under the desk, what his underwear looks like, what he looks like without that goddamn sweater. Poor Bailey, my god. I wanted him so fucking badly.
I will say, I wasn’t as nasty as I could have been. I could have been pulling my dick out like those weirdos in Twitter porn with the caption “chudai” – I wasn’t doing that. I was probably hard more often than not, but I tucked my paws into my sweatshirt pocket and covered my shorts and it was all under the desk anyway. Nobody looked back at me once. I didn’t raise my paw once. They were all focused on Mr. Kaufman up in the front. How could you not be?
When it got too hard, when my cock was throbbing in my shorts and I was seconds away from whipping it out in front of everyone and cumming all over my desk, I would excuse myself and head to the nearby restroom. All my best thinking was done in there. I’d find an empty stall, pull my shorts down, and go absolutely ham at my hard dick. My favorite fantasy was, oh my god, using the urinals and Mr. Kaufman using the one next to me and I’d peak over at his dick, but my second favorite was him coming into that bathroom stall and fucking me against the wall. I spent hours and hours in that bathroom, jerking off to the thought of him.
I would have done anything for him. Because he was an “unmarried” English teacher with long hair, I guess I just assumed that meant he was at least a little gay, especially in our tiny Washington town. I furiously checked Grindr and Sniffies for him again and again to no avail. I looked at his old fucking Myspace account from college for anything I could find. I stared at his Linkedin until my eyes burned.
I remember once when he called me to his office and I was so convinced he was going to make a move. Something crazy was going on in my little kitty head, because of course he wasn’t going to make a move, because he’d be fired and publicly shunned and never get a job again. Still, I jerked off just staring at the email setting up the meeting and I put on my cutest briefs on that morning like something was going to happen.
I stared at his mouth the whole time he talked. His beautiful teeth. That tongue. I sat across from him and tried to hide the erection I had. He sat with his legs spread.
“I’m a little worried about your performance in my class,” he said, his voice low like he didn’t want anyone to hear even with the door closed. Beautiful afternoon light streamed through the windows and dust floated around. There is nothing that would keep me after school except him. “I know that you’ve already gotten into college – congratulations, by the way, I have a couple of buddies who went there and they were very happy the whole way through – and so even if this class doesn’t matter for the grade, I think it matters that you still put the effort in. You can learn for the sake of learning now, not for anything else.” He shook his head and a little locket of hair fell onto his sweater. “You’ve probably heard that before. I just think that you’re a good kid and you have lots of potential, potential you’re already starting to act on, and I want to make sure you’re…”
He stared right into my eyes and my dick throbbed. His breath smelled incredibly good, a little bit like tobacco and a little bit like flowers.
He laughed. “I’m monologuing. I apologize. You just remind me a lot of me at your age and I want to make sure that… someone sees that. Did that make sense?”
It sounded a lot like the words of someone who wanted me really badly. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
“Good.”
We didn’t exactly fuck. We didn’t fuck at all. We went on to go over the rest of the syllabus to make sure I understood when everything was due and figure out if there was anything that was confusing for me. We discussed the book for 10 minutes and I used all of the brainpower I had to remember what people said in class while I was thinking about getting fucked bareback against the wall, and he gave me that smile that made me fall in love with him in the first place. He patted me on the back as I left the classroom.
“Do good work,” he said. “I know you can.”
PART 2
My hometown is so boring. I mean, everyone thinks that, right? It’s probably one of the top 10 most thought sentences ever. Trees and mountains in rural Washington forever. NEXT! At least in college there are gay people – It’s a major university in less-rural but still rural Washington. When I’m there I get to see something other than the nothing smorgasbord my high school had to offer. I get to go on dates, and hook up, and do fun normal stuff that everyone else gets to do. Not here. Maybe they’re all gay now, but at least when I went, I was the only gay person in my high school period. And now I’m back, in the middle of the woods, with no gay people for miles.
In high school, I got obsessed with Grindr. The second I turned 18 I slathered the app with pictures of my body, my asshole, my dick, everything short of my face and my social security number. It was fruitless. I could say gay people 50 miles away, I could see creepy old men in their creepy old houses, but this app which promised to be the app to connect me to other gay people came up short. I still checked every morning like I was playing the lottery, and like the lottery, I never won.
I downloaded it again this morning under the breakfast table, but I haven’t gotten around to playing around with it until now that I’m alone in my bedroom, very much like high school. Other people are doing summer internships, I get to redownload Grindr to desperately scroll until I jerk myself off to sleep.
I put my name as “cute teen” and I use all the same photos I used last year. I haven’t had to take photos so there’s nothing fresh, and I don’t really feel like pulling my dick out right now. It’s all the same shit anyway.
Woah. First profile I’m seeing is, I swear to god, Jake from the grade below me. The hockey boy. Holy shit. I guess I have no real proof it’s him, considering the profile is mostly blank, but he’s 18 and three miles away from me and he has the same sweatshirt that he always wore in high school. Do people know about this? This seems like the biggest gossip ever. Jake freaking F is on Grindr. He takes it up the pooper. Wow. I stare at it for a few minutes but I don’t do anything. I would not touch that with a 10 foot pole.
All of the same profiles I memorised are still here. The feet guy, the guy who just wants to party, the 85 year old. Nothing new. I am so embarrassed at the fact that I downloaded this stupid app again but I can’t put it down. Every time I put my phone down, I pick it back up and go straight back to Grindr. I get a few taps from people miles and miles away, and it makes pride and disgust surge up in my chest at once. This is so dumb.
But then, I reset and there’s a new profile in the top left corner.
I stare at it.
“Friendly dad” is the username. He’s 38. The profile picture is a picture of a fluffy tummy. He’s 2 miles away.
I nearly cum in my shorts right there. Seriously. Instant boner. This is everything I’ve been looking for forever. I didn’t indulge the desire to get fucked by an older man my freshman year of college even though I definitely could have, I guess because it felt like I had people my age right there, but now that there’s no one around the primal urge enters me once more. I don’t even want to click on his profile because it seems too good. Come on, “friendly dad” wants to fuck “cute teen” so bad it’s not even funny.
I click on it. The photos are so fucking sexy. The second photo is this guy’s beautiful white briefs and there’s one of his paws and one of his tail. Of course the thought that this is Mr. Kaufman enters my head, especially since his fur color seems to be the same and his profile says he’s a dog, but it could really be anyone. You can go to the Fred Meyers and buy 10 guys that look like that for a dollar. It doesn’t matter. He’s still gorgeous.
“Friendly dad looking for some fun,” his profile starts. He’s five 11 and 230 pounds and a chubby vers top, according to his stats. “We’re all human beings, so let’s remember that when we’re using this app.”
“So true,” I say to my phone.
He’s literally perfect. And the only thing more perfect is that a little notification appears in the corner – a message saying “Good afternoon!” I could cry. I open the panel and start to text him back.
FRIENDLY DAD: How are you?
CUTE TEEN: hiii
im doing good wbu
FD: I’m good! Enjoying a coffee on my porch.
I haven’t seen you on this app before. Are you local?
I consider what to write. This guy might be perfect, but he could also be one of those woods serial killers who kills you in the woods. Not interested. I fumble around looking for the right wording, that I’m visiting from college (reveals too much information) or that I used to live here but I’m just spending a summer (way too much). I know if I lie, I can say I’m from the travelling circus and I’m looking for a big burly man to protect me, but his profile insists that I be a human being and so I do. I craft the perfect, technically true sentence.
CT: i’m visiting
FD: I hope you like it here. It’s a beautiful place.
CT: it sure is
FD: BTW…
Stupid old people and their ellipses. He’s about to tell me he’s behind me with a knife, right?
FD: You are the most beautiful kitty I’ve seen.
Those photos are breath-taking, especially the one of you in your briefs.
Oh. Okay. That makes me feel a lot better. I might actually be blushing right now – I check in my mirror and I am most definitely blushing. I’ve been called beautiful before. I’ve had people flirt with me. And a message on an app is making me do this. Okay, Bailey.
CT: awww thank u
i gotta say i thought the same thing when i saw ur profile
ur so fuckin hot
FD: You think so, huh?
I have more pics, if you wanna see those.
CT: i would love too
to*
FD: Alright, I’ll send them in one sec…
I sit there waiting for his message back. My cock is stiff. Rock hard. I haven’t touched it once and still I am bulging in my shorts, begging to burst out. At this rate, I don’t know what’s going to happen when he sends the photos.
FD: Here you go, kitty.
He sends a stream of photos and I click on the first one ravenously. His dick. Oh, it is so gorgeous. Maybe six inches, nice and thick, with a beautiful curve. He’s holding it in his paw and a little drop of precum is dripping down the tip of it. I could stare at this image forever, really. I lay down in bed and tuck a pillow between my legs so I’m not as distracted by my erection.
The next photos are all in the same vein. Beautiful photos of his dick, his thick ass, his fluffy tail. One of him in a jockstrap, the rest in briefs. I cannot believe this man is two miles away from me and flirting with me.
I start typing out my response 300 times. How do I tell him I need him to fuck me right now? I guess this is Grindr and I really could just do that, but that’s not something a cute teen would do. Cute teens are not that direct. They are coy. I write something about how sexy he is, about how I have free availability, about how I’d love to meet up, but I end up just writing the truth.
CT: ur pics made me so hard hehe
u look so good
FD: Ohhh, did they?
Would you want to send a photo?
CT: yeeeaaaahhh
I feel the jitters building up in my paws. I’ve literally gone streaking before and this is making me more nervous. I extract my dick from my shorts and hold it in my left paw. It’s still midday outside but the lighting in the room makes it look like it’s dark. I shift to be next to the window and let the gray light envelop my dick. I take a couple of photos and choose the best one. By the last photo, I’m pre-cumming a little.
I send the pic over.
CT: like this hehe
FD: Ohhh, you’re a big kitty, aren’t you?
Look at that.
You are gorgeous.
CT: thank uuuu ur so sweet
FD: I’m not being sweet, I’m just telling the truth.
I know a cute kitty when I see one.
Oh my gooooood. I have to put my phone down for a second and shove a pillow over my face. This is not funny at all. My dick is still out, shorts around my thighs, and I press the pillow as hard into my face as possible. Holy shit.
I take a deep breath and look back at my phone.
FD: Do you think you would want to come over sometime?
Have some fun together?
Okay. Coy. Coy. I will be cute and coy.
CT: hehe yes i would really like that
FD: Me too.
We could get coffee somewhere if you’d like first, or you can just come over. Whatever works.
CT: oh well id be cool with just coming over
FD: When are you free?
CT: all summer long
FD: Tonight?
CT: YES
FD: Tonight it is :)
He sends me the address. I punch it into Google Maps and he’s literally right there. Well, not exactly, but we live in the woods so nothing is right there. I would drive down my street, onto the main artery that heads towards town, and make a left to get there. Two miles easy. I could walk that if I wanted a nice 40 minute walk I get fucked at the end of.
FD: How does six sound?
CT: 6 sounds great
FD: Okay, good.
Can I ask you something?
CT: sure!
FD: Have you done this before?
CT: like had sex?
i have
FD: That is good to know, but I mean on Grindr.
CT: ohhhh
no i haven’t
i’ve lurked for a bit but there’s not much to see here haha
FD: That’s okay. I used to when I lived in the city, but not in a long while.
I just want to make sure you’re safe, since you’re so young and you don’t know me.
I’ll send you my name and a photo, and you can tell someone you’re meeting up with me just to be safe.
I hope this doesn’t sound weird, haha.
Oh my god. I guess I wasn’t thinking about that. I did think he could be a woods murderer but I was trying to be coy and I wasn’t… I dunno. Honestly, my erection hasn’t softened one bit. Safety is so sexy, you guys.
CT: noooo honestly its super sweet
i mean not sweet but u know
i appreciate that ur thinking about that because i wasn’t even thinking about it
FD: I care about your safety and comfort above all else, so if you ever want to back out or if you’re not feeling it, just tell me, okay?
CT: i will
FD: Alright, photo incoming.
I literally do not breathe while I wait for him to send the photo. The urge to start touching myself right now is way too high, but I know I don’t want to let this go to waste. Calm. I close my eyes for a moment. His photo is there when I open my eyes.
It’s Mr. Kaufman.
It’s Mr. fucking Kaufman.
I almost throw my phone at the wall when I see his picture. Of course I always knew it was a possibility in the back of my head, but I thought that was my horny brain running at a million miles a minute. It wasn’t actually going to be him. Except it is him. It fucking is. I know that because the first photo is of his driver’s license, which has a photo of him looking forward on it and his full name right there. Kaufman, Gregg L. The second photo is a cropped photo of him at some sort of event, standing tall in his beautiful sweater and dress pants. That’s the cock I was looking at. That’s the ass I was staring at. That’s the man I spent months imagining me in every position possible. And now it’s about to happen.
I spend honest to god five minutes looking at the photos, then going back up and staring at his dick. It’s just like I imagined. Girthy and just the right size. His belly. His butt. His tail. His beautiful fucking paws. Oh my god.
I finally grind out a response to his text.
CT: u look so fucking hot omg
i cannot wait
He must have put his phone down since I wasn’t responding, so I sit here until that little green light comes back on and he does. I consider saying something, saying that it’s Bailey from high school! and it’s me! and you’re about to have sex with the student you taught last year! but I don’t. I have no idea what I’m going to say to him when I get there, but I’ve gotten this far and I don’t want to jeopardize anything now. I guess I won’t be able to be coy anymore.
Finally finally finally, he responds.
FD: I can’t wait either, kitty.
Text me when you’re coming over :)
PART 3
I pull into his driveway. This is about what I expected his house to look like, a long gravel driveway off the main road shielded on either side by tall trees. He warned me in a text that his house was a little further back than you’d expect, so just keep driving until the mouth of the road opens.
With the sky darkening around me, fading into shades of deep pink, it’s the perfect amount of time to start questioning what the hell I’m doing. I had to resist jerking off the whole day, so by the time I was getting up to get dressed I was frighteningly hard and so horny. I tried on a bunch of different outfits before deciding on one I would definitely wear in high school, a heavy jacket, a tee-shirt, and some shorts. I figured that’s what he knows me wearing anyway. I got more and more excited the whole drive over thinking about all the things we could do, all of the fantasies I’ve had about him that we’re about to do.
Now that I’m right here, though, the reality of the situation is setting in. I’m about to show up at my high school teacher’s doorstep and hope he doesn’t freak the fuck out. For all he knows, I’m just some random kid visiting his friend in town over the summer, not Bailey from Moby Dick class. He has every right to turn me away the second he sees me, tell me that this is inappropriate and he will not be cohorting with a former student. This could be his reputation on the line. Even though everything about it is technically completely allowed, technically completely appropriate, it could still end awfully.
I steady myself as my car pulls out of the woods and into his lot. It’s very quaint – a little suburban home with a beautiful porch and a large backyard fielded by trees on every side. It’s the only place for miles in these woods where you can get a really good look at the sky above us. I park the car in the gravel next to his and take a deep breath before stepping out of the car.
I walk up the staircase. The wood squeaks with each step. I stand at the door and feel my heart pound in my chest.
I knock. He opens the door up soon after.
It’s Mr. Kaufman. He still towers over me, still has that beautiful ponytail tucked behind his back, that graying stubble on his chin. He’s wrapped in a bathrobe and he’s holding one of those rocks glasses for drinking whiskey out of, recently finished off with just an ice cube in it. Yellow light backlights him as he looks at me.
“Oh,” he says. That’s all he says. Oh. He looks at me with big eyes, not quite scared but definitely not settled, then puts the cup down on the entryway table.
“Mr. Kaufman–” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Bailey.”
It’s quiet. Only the sounds of forest around us. Rustling leaves. Birds settling down for the night. The back of my neck is cold. The wind brushes me.
I look into his eyes, trying to figure out what he means. Clearly he hasn’t slammed the door in my face, hasn’t yelled at me to go away, but we’re both standing here unsure of what to do.
Finally, he speaks up. “It’s… it’s cold outside. Do you want to come in, Bailey?”
I nod profusely. Thank fucking god. “Yes. Yes, that would be very nice.”
He smiles a little. Not fully, not that same toothy smile he does when he’s proud of you, but something a lot more subdued. He opens the door a little wider for me and beckons me in.
I step inside and close the door behind me. He hurries off to put his empty cup in the sink while I take my jacket off. His main room is beautiful. The walls are covered in this deep brown paneling and the lamps give the room a nice warm tone. There’s a leather couch in the center across from the fireplace and bookcases lining the walls. Across from that is a small kitchen that has the lights off. He’s standing at the counter, holding the cup in his paws. He looks at me.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Oh, um. Sure. What do you have?”
“I have whiskey or rum, if you’d like. Diet coke in the fridge but I haven’t touched it in a while.” He chuckles at that nervously. “Or just water.”
“Water would be nice,” I say. I mean, whiskey sounds great too, but I don’t want to push. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He pulls a water filter out of the fridge and pours me a glass. He puts two ice cubes in it from the ice maker in the fridge. I stare at his ass in that bathrobe, his tail poking out of the hole in it. He’s probably naked under there. He walks it over to me and puts it in my paw. “Here you go. Can I take your jacket?”
“Please,” I say. He does that too, carefully putting it on a hanger in the closet. We don’t say anything in the meantime. The Clash, I think, is playing from a record in the corner of the room, but it’s not loud enough to cover the overwhelming silence between us. I stand here all politely until he beckons me forth.
“Sit anywhere you want.”
I take a seat on the couch and sink into the leather. He picks the armchair next to me and leans forward, sitting with his elbows on his thighs. It’s silent for a moment besides the voice of Joe Strummer asking if he should stay or if he should go.
We both start speaking at the same time. I chuckle and back off.
“How’s college going, Bailey? You’re going to WSU, right? That’s a lovely school.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m studying engineering.”
“Engineering, right. How is that?”
“It’s hard. It’s super hard, haha. Um. Yeah. I have good friends, though. Great friends. I have lots of fun there.”
“I’m glad! I’m really glad.”
“And, uh, I took this class last semester, since we have sort of a divisional requirement to take a writing class your first year. The Clergy As Portrayed In Middle English Literature.”
He smiles at that. “Did you like it?”
“I didn’t think I would, but I really did. We read The Canterbury Tales.”
“Ah, yes. Chaucer's chef-d'œuvre. It’s not my cup of tea but it’s the rock of English literature. Good choice! I have a copy somewhere around here.”
I smile. This feels exactly like the meetings I’d have with him when he was advising me on something where we’d make small talk about books beforehand and I’d imagine him breathing on my chest and kissing me. Except this time it’s really going to happen, just as soon as we get up off this couch.
“You have a great collection.”
“Thank you! I, uh, used to take day trips down to Portland to visit Powell’s and I’d come back with stacks and stacks of books.”
“That sounds so fun.”
“It is. It’s a great bookstore.”
We lapse into silence again, except this time I have no idea what to say. Fuck me now? The pleasantries are over and I’m fucking ready if he wants me, but even the idea of voicing that makes me freeze up.
But then he smiles. And it’s the same smile he’d give me in high school. “Say, Bailey…” he starts.
“Yeah?”
“How would you feel about taking your pants off?”
“Woah!” I say. Holy shit. “You want me to?”
He nods. “If you’d like. If you’re comfortable.” I hook my paw pads underneath the hem of my shirt. He smiles like nothing else. “Here, come stand in front of me.”
I move. “Here?”
“Yes, Bailey. Right there.”
“Okay.”
“Good kitty.”
Holy shit. Hoooolllly shit. I’m standing right in front of Mr. Kaufman, practically on his lap, and he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful person in the world. He just called me a good kitty with his lovely low voice. He has to notice the erection in my shorts. I notice the erection in his robe. This is fucking amazing.
“Take it off, Bailey.”
I do. I slip my shorts off and now Mr. Kaufman is staring at the erection in my briefs. His eyes are wide and his ears are back.
“Oh, wow. Look at that. You’re beautiful.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh you are so beautiful, Bailey. Look at that.” He chuckles. I love it when he says my name. I love it so fucking much. “Can I touch you?”
“Please.”
He puts his paws around my waist and my cock throbs like crazy. His paws are so soft. So warm. They were never the subject of my fantasy but even him cupping his paws around my thin waist is so much more than I’d ever dream of. He has a big smile on his face, showing lots of teeth. He practically licks his lips.
“Sit?” he says. I follow immediately, taking my seat on his lap. He keeps his paws where they are on me, maybe a little higher around my chest. “Oh, wow.”
“Mr. Kaufman,” I moan, then I realize how weird it is that I’m calling him that instead of Gregg. He doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Mmmm.”
“You like it when I touch you there, don’t you, kitty?”
I nod. “I do…”
“Take your shirt off.”
I do. I’m thin and scrawny but I know I’m cute, at least with other people my age. He gets his paws right back where he likes them.
“Can I kiss you, Bailey?”
“You can…”
He puts his paw on the back of my head and draws me in close to him. I feel his breath on my muzzle and I whimper. I have wanted this for so fucking long. He draws me in for a kiss and I let it happen. It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s so short, so light. He kisses me on the forehead afterwards and lets me return back. I’m smiling so hard.
“Can I kiss you again?”
“You can kiss me as many times as you want.”
He pulls me in once more. He uses a little tongue. I was taking care to not press myself into him but a paw on my butt pushes me in and suddenly I’m grinding up to him. He is so big and so warm. I can’t stop whimpering.
He’s a little drunk, I think, just from the whiskey on his breath and the way his hands are fumbling on my back. His face might be a little more red than usual. He’s also fucking one of his students. His robe has parted so I can see the erection in his briefs. It’s nice and girthy in real life too. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in my open mouth. “You are so beautiful.”
“Mr. Kaufman…” I moan again. It’s the only word I’ve been able to get out of my mouth this whole time. “Ahhh.”
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he says.
“What.” I back up. What the hell did he just say? “What?”
“Bailey…” There’s a bashful look on his face. That definitely wasn’t just a slip of the tongue. What the hell does that mean? Was he thinking about me this whole time? “I knew what you were doing in my class.”
Oh my god. “I…”
“I knew what you were doing in the bathroom. I thought about you in there and I was so tempted…” He’s definitely a little drunk. Holy shit.
“Mr. Kaufman,” I try once more. Like always, I have nothing to add.
“I wanted you so badly.” He chuckles. “And now I have you. I have you in my lap. I have you in my arms.”
PART 4
Mr. Kaufman picks me up with ease. It’s amazing – I’m a shorter guy, maybe 150 pounds, but you’d think he’d buckle a little having to pick me up drunk. Nope. With my legs tucked around his body and his paws on my butt, he stands up.
“Let’s go, little kitty,” he whispers in my ear. I’m sure he can feel my cock throbbing against his tummy. I don’t know where he’s taking me, exactly, and I didn’t have much choice in the matter, but this is exactly where I want to be.
He uses his left paw (I guess he can pick me up with one paw) to burst open the door of his bedroom. He drops me on the bed and drops himself onto me, squishing me into the bed with all of his weight. He gives me a single kiss on the forehead, then I stretch out my neck to try and get more. I lick his chin once, then get to his muzzle. We start lapping at each other with drunken intensity. I can feel him trying to get his tongue into me, as far into me as possible. I can feel his canines against my fangs.
He lets his bathrobe slink off of him and fall onto the floor, leaving him in just a pair of white briefs. There are two thin layers of fabric between his cock and my asshole. He could push himself into me so easily.
Through kisses, he starts moaning my name over and over. “Bailey… Bailey… oh, Bailey…” Then he brings his muzzle up to my ear. “The second you walked into my class… I knew you were just like me.”
With my head pushed into the bed, I start to catch my breath. All I can do is sit here pinned into the bed and listen. I want to drink his warm breath.
“A handsome young man, 18 years old and ready to enter the world, running on ice. Ready to get out of here. So horny with nothing to direct it towards. You think I didn’t see you in the back of the class? I’m standing at the front of the class, kid. I can see everything. I saw what you were doing with your paws under the desk. I’m not blind.” He chuckles into my ear, so close that it makes my entire body tingly. “I wasn’t going to say anything about it. I did the same thing at your age. You’re a horny kitty and you gotta do what your body wants. I get it.”
I whimper. His weight is a lot on me.
“That’s right, isn’t it?” He’s looking at me now, making eye contact with me like he would in senior year when he expected you to have the answer to a question. “You’re just a horny little kitten, aren’t you?”
He wants me to answer. He’s leaving the space for me to answer. I whimper out a feeble little “Yes…” to his question.
“That’s right, that’s just right. You’re a horny little kitten.”
“Yes,” I say again.
“And you want my big cock inside of you, don’t you?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“That’s correct. Yes you do, kitten.”
He pushes up off of me but keeps his crotch pressed right up against me. I’m free to move now but I couldn’t if I wanted to. My entire body is sore from carrying his weight. There is nowhere comfier than these sheets right now.
Mr. Kaufman whispers. “Should I go ahead?”
A nod is all he needs to pull my briefs all the way off. My cock flops against my tummy, finally free. There’s a little pool of pre-cum that has formed already. He presses my legs up with ease so that they’re resting above my head. I grab my thighs to keep them in place.
He rummages through his bedside drawer and comes out with a bottle of lotion and a condom. I stare at the ceiling and whip my tail around, mentally preparing to have his cock inside of me. I usually top but I’m willing to make an exception now. I crane my neck to get a view as he shakes his cock out of his briefs. He sees the smile on my face when I finally get to know how big and girthy it is.
“You’ve wanted to see this, haven’t you?”
I nod.
“Now you get to have it inside of you.”
He has a determined look on his face as he rubs the lotion on his dick and massages the extra into my butthole, using his paw to push my thigh down and expose my butt more. He grabs the condom but I shake my head no.
“No condom?” he asks.
“I want you to fill me up,” I say.
“Good kitty.”
He throws the condom aside and leans over to give me another kiss. I happily accept it, expecting to continue making out with him. We do kiss, but he’s a little more preoccupied by pressing his cock against my asshole and pressing himself in.
I let out a little whimper as he slides himself into me but it goes in without much resistance. He is so big. I’ve never had anything this big inside of me. He thankfully pulls away from my mouth and lets me focus on taking the cock inside of me. I take deep breaths as he puts his paws on my waist, as he pulls me closer to him and I feel the entire length of his dick deep inside of me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and now I finally have it.
“That feels good, doesn’t it? Finally have your teacher’s big cock inside of you? You spent a whole semester craving this dick inside of you and now it is. I’m so happy to give you this, Bailey. A horny kitten like you deserves what he wants.”
He starts fucking me now. I have to clutch the bed sheets as he thrusts himself entirely into me and pulls himself out over and over again. I didn’t know how my body would react to this, but it seems like everything in me is holding together so I can finally experience it. He closes his eyes and enjoys himself as he fucks me, kneeling on the bed and standing up and putting one leg up so he can find just the right position. Eventually he finds what he wants and settles into it.
“Mr. Kaufman,” I moan when he puts his paws around my chest, thumbs on my nipples. “Mr. Kaufman… fuck…”
“Yes, Bailey?” he says like my teacher, like I came to his office hours to ask for help with the homework and he’s looking up from the papers he was grading. “What is it?”
“Mmmmm…”
“Out with it, Bailey.”
“Mmmm, fuck. You’re so big.”
“That’s right, kitten. Take that fucking cock.”
It isn’t until he grabs my cock that I remember I’m a sexual being too, that I’m here to enjoy myself and not just to be the object of his affection. My dick is rock hard. He gives it a good squeeze and I nearly cum right there. He starts jerking me off at the same quick pace he’s fucking me at, and a few seconds of that is all that I need to be at orgasm.
I cover my face with my paws and let the cum stream out of me.
“Lemme see your face,” he says, so I barely pull my paws away and let the pleasure overtake me. He stops jerking me off but he isn’t nearly done fucking me. Cum shoots all over my stomach, a little bit on my chest, a little bit on his stomach, pretty much everywhere with the way my dick is flopping around. “Good, Bailey. Very good.”
“Sir…” I whimper. “Mmm. Mr. Kaufman…”
“Hold on, Bailey… I’m…” he grunts, gripping my legs tight. “I gotta take care of this first.”
He presses himself against me and I have to prop him up with my weak thighs. Instead of moving his whole body, he only rockets his butt back and forth, moving half an inch at a time instead of pulling his full cock out and putting it back in. He does that until his face goes red with exertion.
“I’m gonna cum in you, Bailey,” he moans into my ear. “I’m gonna fill you up with my pups. You like that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Oh yes you fucking love that…”
And that brings him over the edge. He gives one last thrust and grips my haunches as tight as he can and I feel his warmth fill me, hot pumps of cum as far inside of me as he can get them. He stands perfectly still as he fills me up before collapsing right onto me, covering me in his weight once again. His cock slips out of me and I feel all of his cum draining onto the bed sheets.
“Good kitty,” he whispers in my ear, spreading the smell of alcohol over my face once again. “Very good.”
He pulls me into a hug, pulls the blanket over us, and within a minute he’s snoring in my ears.
I’m too excited to go to sleep. I just got fucked by my high school English teacher. His cum is leaking out of my ass. His arms are pulling me tight into a hug. My tail is between his thighs. I lie here for however long, listening to his breathing, feeling his warm paws grasping my chest, enjoying this thing I’ve wanted for so long.
