Subject: Compromises (MF, oral, mast)
By: Kelly <pghkelly@yahoo.com>
Diary Date: September 11, 2009

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                                   !!!WARNING!!!!
This file is a work of fiction containing sexually explicit material which may 
include depictions of underage, nonconsensual and unprotected sex as well as 
incest and adultery. It is not intended to implicate any person or action by 
them or me, nor advocate such practices. If you can't separate fantasy from 
reality, get professional help - FAST!

The material is distributed as "For Adults Only" and possession by a minor is 
strictly forbidden.  If you are not legally empowered to be in possession of 
this material, do not read it and delete it immediately.

This work is copyrighted to the author ©2010. It may be posted to non-commercial 
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites so long as no changes 
are made AND the author information is retained.
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Summary:

All my life I’ve wanted to be a teacher more than anything.  Then last year, 
just when it seemed everything was perfect, all my hopes and dreams were 
crushed.  This past summer an unexpected opportunity arose which promised to 
revive those dreams.  OK, so I had to comprise my principles just a little, but 
it got me back into teaching so I lived with it.  

Besides the moral and ethical issues, I’m learning that there’s another problem 
when you start straying from your beliefs - once you rationalize it the first 
time, the next time gets easier.  Now that I had my job back, was I really ready 
to compromise my core beliefs yet again so I could keep it? 

Table of COntents:
   Chapter 1 – Cinderella
   Chapter 2 – The Carriage Becomes a Pumpkin
   Chapter 3 – After-School Performance Review
   Chapter 4 – The Drive Home


Chapter 1 – Cinderella
======================

All my life I’ve dreamed of being a teacher.  Actually, I can’t think of ever 
wanting to be anything else when someone would ask me, “What do you want to be 
when you grow up?”  After years of tough schooling, grueling exams, bureaucratic 
certifications, lifelong dreams realized, crushed and then resurrected again, I 
finally did it – I was a full time elementary school teacher.  

In a more perfect world, I would’ve graduated with honors, aced my certs, been 
pursued by every major school district in the area, and finally been hired by a 
prestigious school with a great salary and benefits.  All my students would love 
me as their favorite teacher and come to class eager to learn.  At least, that’s 
how I use to dream it would be.

In the real world, I graduated from college with good grades - but no honors.  I 
had to study until I nearly dropped to squeak by the certification exams (had to 
take them in two states which didn’t help).  The schools I’d been hoping to 
teach at had waiting lists so long it would be years before I even got a 
substitute position.  When I finally DID get a job, it was part time as a fill-
in for a teacher who was ill at a small Christian school.  Talk about lousy pay 
and no benefits!  The kids were general good but there were a few that made me 
wonder why I ever wanted to become a teacher and the parents.... well let’s not 
even discuss parents. So it wasn't quite a dream come true but still, I was a 
teacher and that’s what counted in the end. 

Then my world turned upside down with the breakup from my boyfriend just when I 
thought he was going to propose.  Then there was the subsequent embarrassment of 
having to resign when my new ex-boyfriend turned traitor.  Suffice to say that 
there are things that a private school can delve into and take into account when 
determining your qualifications that public schools can’t.  Let’s just say he 
told them enough that the administrator felt it was best we part ways.  Nothing 
official was said and so far as my record read, it was for “personal reasons”.  
Still, I was effectively black-listed as nobody would hire you without a good 
reference from your previous position and THAT wasn't about to happen so long as 
the old geezer was around.  Considering he’d been the administrator since the 
school started, he wasn't about to leave any time soon either.

Fortunately, or at least from my perspective it was, the administrator had a 
serious heart attack which forced him to retire.   His replacement was a much 
younger guy that I hoped would be unaware of the unofficial reasons for my 
resignation.  Eventually he DID hire me back but it didn’t go exactly as I had 
expected.  Rather than repeat all that subsequently happened, check out these 
entries in my diary: 

     May 24, 2009 School Administrator
     June 26, 2009 Unconventional Convention
     June 27, 2009 RV Parking
     June 28, 2009 Disneyland Fun

Keeping it brief, I was forced to let this man have sex with me in order to get 
back the dream I’d thought I’d lost – to be a teacher.  That may sound a little 
ironic coming from a girl who has purposely and unashamedly used sex to get what 
she wants for most of her adult life, but this was a totally different 
situation.  It’s one thing to flirt to cut in line, give a quick blowjob in 
return for an evening out, or even to offer to let a guy fuck you to get 
something you really want.  That’s just normal stuff most girls do whether they 
admit it or not.  

This time, though, it was different.  It meant a lot to me to be able to pursue 
my teaching career on my own credentials.  Resorting to using sex was like 
cheating, sort of like taking the ‘easy way out” and it didn’t mean as much 
afterwards.  I planned on teaching for along time and I wanted to be sure it 
wasn't something that depended on guys wanting to fuck me.  After all, I may be 
24 now but someday it might not be so easy to just bend over and expect to get 
what I wanted.

Thus when it came to pursuing my teaching career, I’ve always stayed the 
straight and narrow. For instance, I’d never fucked a teacher or done anything 
to get a better grade.  In college I bartered quite a bit for some tutoring at 
times but it’s not like I wouldn't have paid cash otherwise and besides, it 
wasn’t like I couldn’t use a little myself at the time.  I dressed 
professionally at all my interviews (I mean as a professional teacher, not a 
hooker) and so until this case came up, I was pretty proud of myself.

It’s not to say I was raped, humiliated or otherwise had to do anything I didn’t 
like.  That’s not what peeved me off so over this whole thing.  No, it just 
irked me that I had to resort to using sex when I was more than qualified based 
on my academic credentials, not my sexual resume.

So anyway, I’d done it, it was over, and now I just had to prove to myself that 
it wasn’t me but the administrator’s fault.  I was bound and determined to be 
the best teacher in the school so nobody could ever say I slept my way into the 
job!

School had been in session for several weeks now.  Back on the first day I was 
probably more nervous about seeing Mr. Eisneberg again than I was about my new 
class.  Professionally, I was as well prepared as I could be and I felt 
confident that I would do well.  What really was getting to me was worrying 
about what Mr. Eisenberg might demand from me.  Surprisingly, I hadn’t heard 
anything from him since we returned from California and for the first week at 
school, I only saw him briefly, mostly just passing by in the hall. It wasn't 
hard to miss him as all the teachers were female and so the only guys around 
during the day were him and the fat maintenance guy.

One week... two weeks... three weeks.  Time went flying by and still not a word 
from Mr. Eisenberg.  Maybe something had happened after the California trip that 
was keeping him in line.  There was always the possibility that his wife had 
suspected something about what went on while we were there.  She had me pegged 
for a slut from the moment she first saw me and had warned me in no uncertain 
terms to behave myself around her husband and family.  As such I was sure she 
didn’t know anything for certain or she would’ve said something at the time.  
Still, maybe she had enough suspicions to read him the riot act when they got 
back home.  

It’s not like Mr. Eisenberg’s wife was some fat hag that never wanted sex.  
Quite the opposite actually as she was gorgeous and loved sex – and that tidbit 
of knowledge came from her, not him.  In fact, when I first met her I had to 
wonder why in the world he would risk so much just to fuck me a few times.  Was 
it just his ego, some sort of male dominance thing?  Maybe he’d finally come to 
grips with the huge risk he was taking and decided to stop before anything 
happened that would cost certainly him his career, not to mention his marriage.

One thing that may have been helping keep his interest off of me was the school 
dress code.  When it came to the teachers it was practically medieval in that we 
had to wear long skirts or dresses that came to no higher than mid-calf and 
preferably to the ankle.  Anything high enough such that your knee was exposed 
when you crossed your legs was unacceptable.

When it came to tops, nothing sleeveless and especially NO cleavage – not even 
so much as a hint, especially when you leaned over which any teacher has to do 
all through the day.  Bras were mandatory at all times and panties didn’t even 
have to be mentioned as the answer was so obvious.  It DID rule out thongs or 
anything other type of underwear that revealed any part of your buttocks.  Heels 
were OK but no more than 2 inches.  Hair had to worn up or tied back, nothing on 
the shoulders.  Makeup was required to be modest; for instance there was to be 
no bright lipstick or excessive eye shadow.

Needless to say, I had to buy virtually an entire new wardrobe in order to teach 
there.  Fortunately I had a few outfits from my college days stuffed in the back 
of my closet which looked professional enough to wear to class.  The one thing 
that bugged me most was having to wear a bra every day.  It made me realize that 
I’d never worn one on a regular basis for my entire life – until now that is, so 
that took more than a little to get use to wearing one every day.  

All in all, nobody could accuse me of looking “hot” at school or trying to tease 
or come on to anyone.  Besides, the oldest age taught at the school was 6th 
grade so it’s not like the students were all that much into caring about their 
teacher’s underwear yet.  

Compared to me, the rest of the staff was quite a bit older.  Looking around my 
first day I realized I must have been at least ten years younger than anyone 
else on staff.  I guess that really wasn't all that surprising when you 
considered the minimum wage salaries and dearth of benefits.  In fact, I’d 
overhead a number of the women say their work was a “ministry” and that they 
depended on their husbands for the household income.  

Well, good for them but I wasn't married nor near retirement age.  Personally, I 
was really worried about paying my bills without having to depend on my father 
for welfare but God came through for me and even that worked out for me in the 
end.  My Aunt Linda just announced that she was moving in with my dad which 
meant there was room for me to move in with my cousin Kristi and thus not have 
to worry about my rent anymore.  I guess theoretically I could’ve moved in with 
them long before as they had a spare bedroom that was rarely used.  Until now 
I’d turned their offers down as I never felt like it would be comfortable for me 
to live with them.  Kristi had been sleeping in the same bed as her mom since 
her parents divorced back when she was just two years-old and it just wouldn’t 
have felt right to barge in on them.

So now mid-September was already approaching and all-in-all, my life was looking 
pretty good.  I had my job, a cheap place to live, and was dating a new guy I’d 
recently met who may have some potential.  Riley was a single-dad whose daughter 
was in preschool.  Technically his ex had all the rights to the pre-school girl 
but he still helped out getting her to school now and then which is how I met 
him.  So far we’d dated a few times and I was starting to like him more every 
time.  He knew nothing about me other than what he saw at school so you can 
imagine his concept of who I was!  So far I’d not done much to alter that 
perception, dressing conservatively on our dates - not old-maid but I left my 
slut outfits in the closet.  He’d kissed me on the cheek after our last date but 
that was it so far as anything even resembling sex went.  Not that I didn’t WANT 
to suck his dick and have him fuck me on our first date; I just felt given my 
sad history with boyfriends that maybe I’d try something new with this guy and 
see what happened.

Yes, I felt like Cinderella.  I’d met my prince and I was living in a fairy 
tale.  What more could a girl ask for?


Chapter 2 – The Carriage Becomes a Pumpkin
==========================================

Even Cinderella’s ballroom fantasy had an ending and so did mine.  One morning I 
was walking down the hall when I passed the administration office just as Mr. 
Eisenberg was coming out.  He seemed startled to see me at first and then a 
strange grin grew on his face.  He gave me that “look”, the same one most guys 
give me when it’s like they’re trying to summon their x-ray vision so they can 
see through my clothes.

“Ah Miss Wells, I’ve been meaning to see you,” he said in a disarming tone, “I 
was hoping you could stop by my office some time so we could discuss your 
progress so far.”

I paused for a moment before answering, trying to read his body language to 
determine if this was a legitimate request or just a ruse for some hidden agenda 
on his part.  Given my past experiences with him, nobody could blame me for 
being a little extra cautious.  On the surface of things, such a meeting was not 
unexpected considering I WAS a brand new teacher and all.  In fact, under more 
“normal” circumstances I would’ve expected such a review much earlier than this 
given over three weeks had already passed since school started.  However, these 
were definitely NOT “normal” circumstances which is one problem when you start 
associating sex with your workplace – you never know where one ends and the 
other picks up.

“Yes sir.  I understand,” I replied respectfully, “So when would you like me to 
stop in?”

He looked in his notebook as if he needed to consult his schedule and again I 
was left wondering if it was all a show or if he really needed to check.  In any 
case, he snapped it shut before I could see what he was looking at and smiled at 
me.

“Well, I suppose it would be best to get it over with as soon as possible since 
we’ve delayed it this long already.  How about right after your last class this 
afternoon?” he offered.

Being it was a Friday, I would’ve definitely preferred to have left for home as 
soon as classes ended to beat the terrible traffic.  Other than that I didn’t 
have a valid reason for refusing him so I just nodded slightly  after which he 
said he was looking forward to it and returned to his office without another 
word.

The rest of the day went by with me wandering about in a daze.  Thankfully I 
shared the classroom responsibilities with another teacher or I don't know how I 
would’ve gotten through it.  All I could think about was Mr. Eisenberg and our 
“meeting” scheduled for the end of the day.  Perhaps I was getting worked up for 
nothing.  After all, he hadn’t hardly said a word to me up until today so maybe 
this was all on the up and up?  All the other teachers told me that they’d had a 
review within a week or so of their start and so if anything, they were 
surprised I had already gone so long without one.  Well, they didn’t know how my 
interview went either.

This nightmarish situation was exactly why I hated having to use sex to get my 
job.  If I hadn’t given in and instead had been more brave and stuck up for 
myself instead of panicking and agreeing to his demands, I wouldn't be in this 
situation.  Instead, I was left wondering what I might have to do in order to 
keep my job.  What would the other teachers say if they knew why I was so 
worried?  Heck, the past administrator was so old he probably couldn't get it up 
anyway.

Ironically, the whole situation was rather ridiculous AND unnecessary.  Heck, if 
instead of forcing me to let him fuck me in order to get my job, had he just 
come on to me like a typical horny husband I probably would’ve willingly agreed 
to having sex with him just because I enjoy fucking married men.  It sort of 
reminded me of when I first tried escorting years before when I was in college.  
Back then I’d ended up quitting when one of my clients tied me up, blindfolded 
me, and then brought in a group of so-called friends to fuck me without warning 
me about it ahead of time.

As a direct result of that experience I “retired” from escorting before anything 
worse could happen to me.  However, like what I was facing today, that was a 
case where had the jerk simply ASKED me ahead of time. I probably would’ve 
gladly agreed to go along with it (assuming, of course, he paid more).  Instead, 
it was like he and his friends were raping me.  So as you can see, there’s a 
HUGE difference between doing something because you agree to do it compared to 
feeling like you have no choice.

Well, the exact same principle applied now to Mr. Eisenberg.  Had he simply 
ASKED me to have sex with him, everything would’ve been fine and I’d be looking 
forward to our meeting this afternoon.  Having a guy with a wife like his risk 
it all just to fuck me would have been exhilarating under different 
circumstances.  Instead, because he forced me to let him fuck me so I could have 
my job, now I was dreading what might happen at the end of the day.  In way I 
guess it was a shame!


Chapter 3 – After-School Performance Review
===========================================

The last bell of the day had barely ended before the kids were evacuating the 
school, followed close on their heels by their teachers who were also anxious to 
get home to start the weekend.  Not Kelly.  No, I was on my way to the 
administrator’s office instead for my so-called “Performance Review”.  It was 
amazing how the hustle and bustle of just a few minutes ago suddenly became an 
almost deathly silence, broken only by the sound of my heels clicking on the 
shiny tiled floors.  

Despite my slow pace, I eventually reaching his office where I stood in front of 
the door and took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and slow my heart rate 
down a few notches.  It was useless.  Oh dear, I wanted nothing more than 
anything to turn around and sprint to my car but then I knew I may as well not 
bother returning.  Whether I liked it or not, my continued employment depended 
on the outcome of this review – in whatever form it might take.

The silence in the hallway was broken when I knocked on the door.  Within a few 
seconds he called out for me to come in.  Sheesh, couldn't he even open the door 
for me?  Stepping in, I saw him behind his desk from where he immediately told 
me to close the door behind me.  Something reminded me of a story I once heard 
about how Billy Graham never allowed himself to be alone with any woman other 
than his wife in any closed room – not even a car.  His rule applied even to  
his secretary of over thirty years.   Well, Mr. Eisenberg certainly didn’t live 
up to those standards.  What would the church board say if they knew he was 
meeting with a woman my age alone in his office with the rest of the school 
empty?

“Take a seat Miss Wells,” he greeted me, pointing to one of two chairs set out 
in front of his large wooden desk.  It must have been a hundred years old and 
looked like it could have survived a bombing it was so sturdy.

As for the rest of the office, it looked almost exactly as it had several months 
ago when he first “interviewed” me.  Yep, the same furniture, even the same 
family photos except now I was a lot more familiar with the people portrayed in 
them.  I saw him and his beautiful wife in one of them and wondered what his 
foxy wife would say if she knew the real reason why her husband was staying late 
after school today?  I was pretty positive he hadn’t told her who he was meeting 
with!

Funny, but he seemed unsure how to start so I just sat there with my legs 
crossed and my hands folded modestly in my lap, waiting patiently for him to 
take the lead.  After all, it WAS his meeting so I was going to let him call the 
shots.

“So I guess you’ve probably been wondering when we would have this little chat, 
weren't you?” he started out softly.  I just shrugged, trying not to express 
anything that might lead him to believe one thing or another. 

“Let’s stop wasting both of our time, OK?” he suddenly blurted out, shifting his 
weight so as to sit on the edge of his chair while resting on his elbows on the 
desk in front of him.  “We’re both adults.  We both know what this is REALLY all 
about, don't we?”

If he was looking for me to be the one to initiate anything, or to somehow 
condone what I knew he was leading up to, well then he was going to be sadly 
disappointed.  There was absolutely no way on earth that I was going to give him 
anything that he could use later to claim that it was somehow all my idea or 
that I was complicit with anything.  So I just sat there silently, waiting for 
him to get to the point.

“Fine, if this is how you want it, then I can deal with it,” he huffed. I could 
see he was  quickly becoming frustrated.  It wouldn't have surprised me to know 
that he had been fantasizing that somehow I would just waltz in, do a sexy 
strip-tease for him and finally beg him to fuck me - or something along those 
lines.  Well, it wasn't going to be that easy for him.  Sure, we both knew what 
I was probably going to eventually have to do, but it didn't mean I had to help 
him.

“Stand up,” he demanded in a voice that suddenly turned bitter cold.  Gone was 
any façade of this being a formal “Performance Review”.  It was obvious things 
were going to happen pretty fast now and I cold feel my heart racing.  At the 
same time I also felt my pussy starting to tingle and I couldn't believe I could 
be reacting this way.  OK, so it HAD been a while since I’d been laid but not 
THAT long, certainly no reason for my body to respond like this, especially 
under the circumstances.   Still, as I explained before, had he simply ASKED me 
from the beginning to have sex with me so he could cheat in his wife, then I 
probably WOULD be doing the strip tease thing for him on my own right now.  It 
wasn't like he hadn’t fucked me good in the past.  In fact, he fucked me pretty 
damn well!

It was all becoming so damn complicated.  My head stubbornly clung to the belief 
that it was wrong to trade sex for a career while my pussy was pushing me to go 
for it and take advantage of the situation.  After all, it WAS quite a 
compliment that he was willing to risk so much just to have sex with me.  His 
wife was a real fox, the classic MILF, and I’d actually found myself wishing she 
was bi during our trip out to California together this past summer.  Despite 
myself I couldn't help but think of how hot it would be if she was to walk in 
right now.  We could have sex while her husband watched and then eventually he 
could fuck us both!

“I said take off your dress!”

My reverie was rudely interrupted and I realized that I’d been daydreaming.  Mr. 
Eisenberg was glaring at me with a rather pissed-off expression.  Apparently I 
hadn’t heard him the first time while my mind went off on that weird tangent.  
It also served to break any train of thought I might be having about enjoying 
this with him as my logical side regained control and I started feeling a little 
angry at being forced into all this.

“NOW dammit, what the hell are you waiting for whore?”

THAT was almost the straw that broke this camel’s back.  It was bad enough to 
have to submit to him like a cheap whore just to keep my job, but to have him 
call me a whore was going too far.  OK, so I WAS a slut but then I’m proud of my 
reputation.  Being called a slut is an honor in that  it means people see me as 
being sexy and they can tell I love sex.  Whores, on the other hand, will do 
anything with anybody provide they get paid and I have no respect for anyone 
that does that – not even my cousin.  Yet at the same time, wasn't I doing what 
Mr. Eisenberg demanded for a price – my job?  Did that make me a whore to him?

Reaching behind me, I unzipped my skirt in back and let it drop to the floor 
around my ankles.  The weather was warm enough and I still had enough of a tan 
to get away without panty hose or stockings so my legs were bare. If this had 
been a normal date I might have been embarrassed to be seen in such 
grandmotherly panties but then he was responsible for the dress code so I guess 
you could say it was his fault.  He’d stood up as I was undressing and now his 
arms were crossed as he waited impatiently for me to strip the rest off so I 
unbuttoned my blouse and stood there in nothing but a black bra and panties.   
My heels were still on but I would have had to unbuckle the straps so I left 
them on for the moment.

“Well I see you’re conforming to the dress code Miss Wells,” he said smugly, 
“Actually I’m a bit surprised.  I would’ve thought you to be the type to push 
the limits a little.”

I just frowned at him and stood there with my hands on my hips, refusing to rise 
to his bait as I waited for his next demand.  It wasn't long in coming...

“Hmmmm, why don’t you come behind my desk and let’s see how your cocksucking 
skills have progressed since our last review.”

At least he had dropped the façade and wasn't trying to be so subtle anymore.  
In a way, I was glad to get the ball rolling as the sooner things got going, the 
sooner this nightmare would be finished.  Feeling a little slutty, I walked 
slowly around his desk while he was working on undoing his pants.  By the time I 
was in front of him he had taken them off along with his underwear such that he 
was standing there in just his dress shirt, tie, socks and shoes.  Trouble was, 
he looked so ridiculous that it was all I could do to keep from breaking out in 
laughter.  The black socks were what really did it for me, coming almost to his 
knees.  God, how nerdy could a man look?

Laughing at him wouldn't get me a passing grade so I bit my tongue and bent my 
knees to drop down in front of him until my face was level with his cock.  Once 
again I felt conflicted.  I couldn’t believe I was going to suck his dick again 
just so I could keep my job.  Then again, on the other hand he DID have a nice 
looking cock and I felt myself licking my lips without even realizing what I was 
doing as I stared at his rising dick.   

It was almost impossible for me NOT to want to suck his cock.  Since I sucked my 
first dick over ten years ago I’ve always loved sucking on a guy’s dick.  Since 
that first one I’ve sucked hundreds more but I never grow tired of it and I 
especially love it whenever I get the chance to try out a new one.  Sure I’d 
sucked Mr. Eisenberg’s dick a few times already but still, he DID have a nice 
cock and I DID feel this instinctive desire within me to suck it.  In fact, I 
didn't even wait for him to say anything more before I leaned forward and took 
him my mouth right away, without even stroking him first. Something in me 
suddenly mad me crave the feeling of his dick in my mouth.  Well, that’s not 
totally accurate.  What I craved was the feeling of ANY dick in my mouth, not 
necessarily his in particular.

“Damn, now THAT’S what I call working for a grade!” he gasped as I went down on 
him and stuffed his entire dick in my mouth.  He was only about half-erect and 
so it was a cinch to fit him in but I also knew that even when fully erect he 
wasn't THAT big. 

“Oh yeah, take it all just like that,” he gasped as I pressed my face into his 
bushy crotch, feeling his dick growing with each passing moment.  I’ve always 
loved that feeling I get when a man’s cock grows in my mouth.  It’s like it’s 
magic and no matter how many times I experience it, I don't think I’ll ever grow 
tired of it. God I loved feeling his dick in my mouth as it hardened and 
lengthened.

“You love sucking dick, don’t you?” he said in a voice hoarse with his own lust, 
“It’s OK, you can admit it... you love sucking MY dick, don't you Miss Wells?”

OK, so he had me pegged.  What could I say, he was right.  It was no different 
than putting a huge steak in front of a starving man and then telling him if he 
ate it then he would be selling his soul.  Like there would really be a decision 
to make?  So what if I was going against everything I’d promised myself?  What 
did it really hurt to suck his dick?  Wasn’t  I being a little too simplistic in 
my expectations?  Given that I LOVED sucking cock was it really all that bad for 
me to suck one, especially if it meant keeping my job?  Damn, like if I didn't 
have a problem with sucking a guy’s dick for a free dinner, then why wasn’t it 
OK to suck one for a much more important thing - to keep my job?

My pussy was on fire by now and I reached down inside my panties to play with 
myself as I kept sucking non-stop on Mr. Eisenberg’s now fully erect dick.  
Mmmmm, I loved the way his hard cock felt in my mouth, stiff but yet smooth and 
soft at the same time.  The sharp musk of his sex assaulted my nose and I 
breathed it in deeply, taking in the scent of his masculinity. My pussy was 
soaking wetter by the minute and my finger easily slipped inside and then back 
up again to wet and tease my clit.

Personally, I would’ve been thrilled just sucking his dick until he came and 
calling it a day.  After all, that’s how many of my dates went.  Despite what 
some people might think, I don't fuck every guy I date, at least not on EVERY 
date. Mr. Eisenberg, though, seemed to have different ideas.

“Stand up,” he said, regaining his voice.

Reluctantly I let his wonderful dick slip from my lips and stood in front of 
him.  I wiped my mouth off using the back of my hand and licked my lips, the 
taste of his dick still in my mouth.

“God, you look so fucking hot,” he sighed as he stared at my lingerie-clad body.   
My assumption was that he would next insist on me taking it off next so I 
started to reach behind me to unhook my bra but he reached out to stop me.

“No... leave it on,” he said urgently.  Then he reached out and hooked his 
fingers under the bottom of my bra, stretching it out and lifting it up and over 
my boobs until it was clear of them but still tight around the top of my chest.  
He put one hand on each of my breasts and started to squeeze them, play with my 
nipples between his fingertips, nipples which were bullet hard by now and 
sensitive to the touch.  It was like a small electric shock ran through me 
whenever he pinched them and pulled on them.

“Perfect... just perfect,” he sighed, “You get perfect marks for your tits.”

Then he bent over and I felt his mouth on my boob, sucking on it softly at first 
and then hard, drawing the nipple into his mouth where he grabbed it with his 
teeth and tugged on it.  It really did feel good and I could feel any remaining 
resistance in me fading away as he suckled on my boobs like a starving baby.

“Oh Mr. Eisenberg, that feels so good,” I heard myself saying as if I was on the 
sidelines watching the action.  Indeed, it DID feel good but should I be 
encouraging him?  DID I really want him to know I was enjoying this?

Then with his mouth still on my nipple I felt his hand pull my panties to the 
side and he started to explore my pussy, rubbing my clit and sliding his fingers 
up and down my pussy lips between my clit and my pussy hole.   Standing up was 
becoming more and more a chore as my legs weakened with the incredible feelings 
of pleasure he was giving me by fondling my pussy.  We both knew what the other 
wanted.  Hell, I knew what I wanted, THAT was for sure!  Any sense of resistance 
was long since gone and I knew what I needed more than anything at his moment.   
There was only one thing that I wanted and I had to have it.

“Fuck me... Oh god fuck me Mr. Eisenberg,” I gasped, the words exploding from my 
mouth as my desires overwhelmed me.

For just a brief moment I felt a surge of intense guilt.  Hadn’t I sworn that I 
would NEVER ask him to fuck me again?  Oh sure, I resigned myself from the start 
that I would probably have to LET him fuck me, but I would be damned if I was 
going to ASK for it, let alone beg for it.  Well, that was an easy promise to 
make back home but it was a much different situation now.  NOW I wanted his dick 
in me and even though I knew he wanted to fuck me too, he didn't seem to be in 
any rush to do it.  Well, I wanted it NOW.  No more of this foreplay crap, I 
wanted to be fucked and I wanted to be fucked NOW.

Enough was enough so I pushed him away and sat back on his desk, pushing 
everything out of the way without any concern or care.  Leaning back, I raised 
my knees up, spreading my legs apart without any shame or modesty.  My panties 
were still on but I didn't care.  Reaching down, I pulled the crotch over to the 
side and looked up at him, my voice barely recognizable now as I was utterly 
consumed by my lust and desires. 

“Please fuck me Mr. Eisenberg,” I begged, hating myself for doing it but not 
caring any more.  As much as I knew he wanted to fuck me, he seemed to be 
getting off just from seeing me acting this horny.  Well, maybe “acting” was the 
wrong word as there was no acting going on so far as I was concerned.

“You want this in you, don’t you slut?” he teased me, waving his dick around 
with his hand just inches from my pussy.  Then he slapped my pussy with it and 
pulled it away.  “You need my dick in you, don't you?  I can see it in your 
eyes.  C’mon, beg for it slut... beg me to fuck you.  You know you want it so 
beg for it.”

My pride and dignity were on the line but my need to feel his dick in me trumped 
everything else.  The hell with it, I’d deal with my ego issues later.  Now all 
I cared about was addressing this overwhelming desire, this craving, this NEED I 
can’t even begin to explain to have a dick inside of me.  Heck, I really didn't 
care whose it was at this point.  Like, the fat janitor could have walked in 
right now and I would’ve let him fuck me.  God only knows what I might do at a 
time like this if one of those cute boys in my class somehow wandered in - I was 
in that crazy of a mood – dying to be fucked and not caring who or even what 
fucked me.  Shit, a stray dog could have wandered in and I would have gladly 
accepted his dick.  I mean, I was like THAT horny at this moment. 

Fortunately Mr. Eisenberg’s cock was available so none of those ridiculous 
thoughts which were weaving their way through my sex-crazed mind ever had a 
chance of happening – not that they really ever would but when I get that 
bizarre you never know what I might do.

“Oh god, yes!  Fuck me!” I cried out as I felt his dick beginning to finally 
penetrate me.  He didn’t say a word as he yanked my panties roughly to the side 
and slipped himself in me.  YES!! Finally I had what I wanted and that was all I 
cared about at that moment.  My legs automatically wrapped themselves around his 
waist as I tried to pull him even tighter against me, wanting ALL of his dick in 
me, craving every inch of that wonderfully erect cock.

As he fucked me I could hear myself babbling on about how good it felt in me, 
how I wanted him in me so badly, begging him to fuck me deeper and harder, and 
on and on in an almost non-stop litany of dirty slutty talk.  He seemed to love 
it and the nastier and filthier I got, the faster and harder he fucked me.  It’s 
funny how some men want the sweet innocent girl when they fuck me but then 
others seem more turned on by the dirty whore persona.  Without any doubt, today 
Mr. Eisenberg was definitely into the whore side of the equation!

“Shit... I’m gonna cover you all over with cum,” he announced, repositioning 
himself in preparation for pulling out me so he could spray me god only knows 
where when he came.  Well, NOT if I had anything to say about it.

“No!... cum inside my cunt,” I said between gasps as I struggled to breath.

“Oh?  So the whore wants me to stay in her, eh?” he replied with an almost evil 
expression, “Then beg for it whore, beg me for my cum, tell me how badly you 
want it in your nasty wet cunt.”

At this point I was beyond caring anymore about my dignity or self-respect.  
After all, what more could I do that would make things any worse than they 
already were?  Let’s see... so far I’d given in completely to his demands and 
while I’d never admit later that I’d submitted myself to him, I was certainly 
going along with everything he wanted.  In for a penny... in for a pound as they 
say.  Why not finish it the way he wanted?

“Oh Mr. Eisenberg,  I want to be your fucking whore.... fuck me... mate me...  
cum inside of me dammit,” I begged, “I want to be filled with your hot cum, feel 
your sperm in me.”

It wasn't just an act – I WANTED him to cum in me. Had he known just how badly I 
wanted it he might’ve taken more advantage of the situation as I would have done 
about anything, promised about anything, committed myself to about anything, 
anything to long as he stayed inside of me and let me feel him cumming in me.  
There’s something so frustrating, so empty when a man pulls out in the middle of 
his orgasm.  It’s like you’ve worked so hard to get to that point and then 
suddenly it’s snatched away from you.  I wanted him to finish in me, to complete 
what he started, to give me his adulterous cum – the cum that SHOULD have been 
in his wife’s pussy.  Indeed, I wished his wife could be here now to see her 
husband as he released himself in another woman.

Mr. Eisenberg started to say something – I think he was going to make me beg 
even more but his dick betrayed him and he started to cum whether he was ready 
or not.  Sometimes it works out for the best that men can’t control their 
orgasms.  He groaned loudly as he thrust his hips forward, smashing his hairy 
crotch into my bare pussy as he held himself still inside of me while his first 
load of cum erupted from his adulterous dick.

“Oh god!” we both cried out simultaneously as he jerked involuntarily with each 
ejaculation.  As for me, I just laid back on his desk and concentrated on the 
faint blooms of warmth that followed each of those mighty thrusts, trying to 
imagine his cum spurting from the end of his cock into the depths of my warm 
dark pussy.  My hand was on my pussy and I was so close.... so close!

“Oh fuck!” I moaned as it was my turn to cum.  He had stopped jerking but he 
held his spent dick in me as my pussy spasmed around him, pressing down on him 
as if it was trying to milk his dick to draw every drop of cum from him.  I laid 
my head back on the desk and closed my eyes, just laying there still as he held 
my legs up and pushed himself in a little more to keep his deflating dick inside 
of me.  

God I loved this feeling and despite everything it was all worth it just to be 
able to experience it yet again.  It was the closest thing I can imagine to 
being in heaven as I laid there while my orgasm surged through me while a man’s 
dick filled my pussy, surrounded by his fresh cum.  My boobs were about to 
explode with pleasure as I held onto them like a life preserver as he rubbed his 
crotch up against my hyper-sensitive clit.  Oh yeah, this was what I lived 
for... this was what I craved and would do anything for – even whore myself for 
if that’s what it took.

Finally I started to relax and when I opened my eyes I saw him staring at me, 
smiling with this ridiculously wide grin on his face.  He pulled himself out of 
me, allowing my legs to drop and hang down from the edge of the desk.  I didn’t 
have the energy to sit up yet so I just laid there, most likely looking like 
some whore in a porn film with my cum-drenched pussy wide open for him to see 
and my pointed boobs laying out for him to enjoy.

About the only thing that could have possibly made it better would be to have 
his wife walk in now and see the results of his handiwork laying out on his 
desk.   His wife knew full well as a result of our trip to California what I 
slut I really was so I doubt it would’ve really surprised her all that much to 
see that it was me on the desk.  After all, he would’ve had to be pretty kinky 
to want to fuck any of the other teachers.

“C’mon, get dressed.  I need to get home before someone starts wondering why I’m 
so late,” he said abruptly.  

Typical man.  While I could’ve laid there for a lot longer, rubbing myself just 
enough to enjoy the feelings that were still flooding me, he’s done his thing 
and now he was ready to leave.  I managed to somehow stand up and for a moment I 
had to hold onto the edge of the desk as I felt a little disoriented and dizzy.

“What’s the matter, did I fuck you too hard?” he teased me.  Somehow I don't 
think he was joking as he seemed quite proud of himself.  Shaking my head, I 
tried to ignore him as I straightened out my bra and buttoned my blouse.  The 
feeling of the soft bra interior against my hard nipples made me shiver and then 
I started to fix my panties back in place.

“Don't bother.. give them to me,” he demanded.  I looked at him with a 
questioning glance, not quite sure what he meant.

“Give me your panties... their mine now,” he said more forcefully this time as 
he held out his hand.

At this point I wasn’t in any mood to argue so I slipped them off and handed 
them over to him.  He put them in his pant pocket for god only knew what 
purposes later.  In spite of everything I couldn’t help but think of how many 
guys have asked me for my panties over the years – and they always wanted the 
dirty ones!  No doubt I could make a fortune on-line selling my panties.  I’d 
have to buy enough so I could wear a new pair every day and then mail them to 
yet another “customer” when I took them off at the end of the day.  In fact, at 
one point I’d actually considered it but it seemed too creepy in the end.

With my outfit (sans panties) back in place, I checked myself out in a mirror on 
hung the wall and realized my hair was a total disaster.  Mr. Eisenberg was in a 
rush to leave but I couldn’t go walking around the school looking like I’d just 
had sex – even if it WAS the truth.  Nobody should be around but then you never 
know.  Knowing my luck the head Pastor would be walking around.

“Well, I’d say you passed your performance review today,” he said but then he 
added, “But just barely.  I think we’re going to have to keep a close eye on you 
for the time being so don't be surprised if I call you in more often to discuss 
how you’re doing.”

I suppose later the full impact of what he’d just said would sink in later but 
for the moment, all I wanted to do was get out and go home.  As I started to 
regain my senses, there was this sense of revulsion rising in me because of what 
I’d just done.  All I wanted at this instant was to put as much distance between 
me and him and his office with that damn desk as possible.  Grabbing my purse, I 
left his office without another word and headed for the parking lot.  

On the way I passed my classroom and the thought struck me as to what my 
students would think if they knew what a whore their teacher had been after 
class today?  Well, actually they probably wouldn’t have understood it in the 
first place but I knew their parents certainly would.  God, if word of what I’d 
just done ever got out...  I’d be finished forever so far as teaching was 
concerned.  Sure, his career would be in ruins as well but I didn’t give a damn 
about him.  It was MY career that I cared about.


Chapter 4 – The Drive Home
==========================

As one might imagine, on my way home I was having a horrible time concentrating 
on my driving.  No jury in the world would convict me for being an emotional 
wreck?  It seemed one minute I was confused, then excited, disgusted, thrilled, 
horny, and even angry.  Heck, sometimes it was a mixture of them at the same 
time like when my pussy was still so worked up it would almost cramp but yet I 
was yelling at myself for being such a fool.  No doubt more than a few people 
driving by must have thought I was a little “touched” as some of my 
“discussions” with myself became quite animated!

To top it all off, my cell phone rang and I saw it was Riley calling me, the guy 
I’d been dating lately.  My first instinct was to ignore it but I hadn’t heard 
from him in a few days so I was anxious to talk with him again.  Taking a deep 
breath, I answered it as calmly as I could.  Riley asked me how my day had gone 
and then mentioned that he’d been hoping to catch me after school but I didn’t 
come out with everyone else so he was just checking to see if I’d been at school 
today and if everything was alright.

Just my luck, the one day he makes it to the school all week and what am I doing 
but getting laid by my boss in his office.  God, what could I say to him?  
Obviously not the truth!  Oh sure, I could just picture me saying something 
like, “Sorry Riley, I had to stay after today so my married boss could fuck me 
silly on his big desk.”  Actually, the very thought of it sent shivers through 
me and my pussy actually got that tingle it gets when I’m really horny.

For the briefest of  moments I flirted with the idea of saying just that.  Who 
knows, maybe Riley would like me better if he knew what a slut I was.  If I put 
out for him the way I just did for Mr. Eisenberg, would he be more interested in 
me?  Thankfully common sense prevailed and I simply told him I’d had to stay 
after work for a performance review – which technically wasn’t a lie.  OK, so  I 
didn’t bother to mention what skills of mine had been reviewed!

“Yeah, those can be a bitch,” he commiserated with me, “Man, I can’t believe he 
made you stay after work on a Friday though.”  Fortunately we were on the phone 
and he couldn’t see the sly grin on my face when I thought about just how “hard” 
Mr. Eisenberg’s dick had been.

“Well, I think I made a pretty good impression,” I said, smiling to myself at 
the memory of the look on Mr. Eisenberg’s face when I started sucking his cock 
and then later when he was cumming in my pussy.  God, if only Riley had even a 
hint of how horny it was making me by talking to him about this!  Without really 
thinking about what I was doing, I put the phone on speaker and used my hand to 
pull up my skirt so I could reach my crotch – nice and bare now as my panties 
were in Mr. Eisenberg’s hands – literally most likely.

Riley started to talk about the weekend and what plans we both might have.  By 
the time he got around to asking me out Saturday night I already had my fingers 
working my pussy and I pulled them to my mouth and tasted a little of Mr. 
Eisenberg’s cum that had drained from me during the drive so far.  Mmmmm, I 
wondered what Riley’s dick would feel like in my mouth and how my pussy would 
taste after he’d cum in me?

So far Riley and I had barely even kissed, let alone anything more, but at this 
moment had he been in the car driving with me in the passenger seat I had no 
doubt what I’d be doing.  Traffic or not, I’d have my head in his lap sucking 
that dick he’d been hiding under his jeans from me.  Regardless of my befuddled 
emotions, my body was craving more sex and I would’ve loved to have him pull 
over to the side of the rode and fuck me right now.  He was still jabbering away 
when a quick gasp escaped my lips when my clit caused me to jump involuntarily 
after touching it on just the right spot.

“Hey, you OK?” he asked, breaking off from his discussion about the lack of good 
movies playing over the weekend.

Once again I was sorely tempted to respond with something like, “Oh I’m fine, 
just got my skirt up and now I’m masturbating while I’m driving and talking to 
you.  By the way, how would you like to fuck me right now?”  

Once again common sense came to the rescue so instead of saying what I WANTED to 
say, I brushed it off as being something to do with the heavy traffic.  That 
sort of backfired as Riley then said he would call me later so I could 
concentrate on the road.  Little did he know the real reason for my lack of 
concentration!

After he hung up I continued to masturbate as I drove.  As I’d feared, by 
leaving the school so late on a Friday afternoon the traffic was miserable.  It 
was pretty much stop and go but on the positive side it gave me plenty of 
opportunities to touch myself without having to worry about my driving.  There 
were a few times when I would get myself rally going and the guy behind me would 
honk when the traffic started moving and I didn’t notice.  He probably figured I 
was on my cell phone and not paying attention. Maybe he would’ve been a little 
more understanding if he knew what I was really doing right in front of him.

As I touched myself I couldn’t help but think about what I was doing and WHY I 
was doing it.  The reality of my situation was beginning to sink in.  Wow, how 
had I allowed myself to get to this point?  Here I was, sitting in rush-hour 
traffic with one hand under skirt playing with my freshly fucked pussy after 
allowing my boss to fuck me so I could keep my job.  Whew!  Just saying that in 
one sentence was enough to run me out of breath!

Looking back, when I entered his office I knew deep down that he would likely 
fuck me before I left.  If I was honest with myself I knew that while I had 
every intention of making him work for it, eventually I would be giving in to 
him.  As much as I would like to have blamed hormones and allowing myself to get 
carried away under the circumstances, there was no escaping the reality that I 
went into his office of my own free will with the expectation that he would fuck 
me. Not only had I reconciled myself to being fucked, as much as I hated to 
admit it I also knew that I would probably enjoy it more than I should but that 
wasn't really too bad a thing to hope for. 

Maybe I had been trying to convince myself that it was just something I had no 
choice about.  Perhaps I was guilty of rationalizing everything I the name of my 
career.  Still, regardless of WHY I allowed myself to go to his office, what I 
honestly never anticipated was how I would react to the situation once it got 
started.  Even when I allowed myself to think about it, I never pictured myself 
being the aggressor or begging for anything.  If anything, quite the opposite.  
HE was going to be the one to make all the first moves.  HE was going to be the 
one to beg to fuck me.  HE was going to be the one to plead with me not to tell 
his wife.  There was something in the idea of him being the one that wanted it 
the most that made it seem OK for me prior to our meeting.

So what excuse did I have?  Sure I hadn’t been laid for almost a week but still, 
it wasn't like I’d been celibate for a month or more.  I’d masturbated as usual 
this morning so it wasn't like I should have been TOO horny, even though I’d 
skipped my usual lunchtime “break” because I’d been so nervous about the 
upcoming meeting.  There was nothing I could point to that I could say made me 
WANT to go to his office, that was for sure.  It was what happened once I was 
there that mattered.

Basically I have no logical excuse for my reactions.  I guess there are just 
times when your body needs something and it forced you to do whatever it takes 
to fulfill that need.  Sort of like when I crave a particular flavor of ice 
cream and end up searching every grocery store for miles until I find it.   
Something in me just snapped when I walked in.  Maybe it was seeing the photos 
of his wife and family, almost like they were watching as their dear husband and 
father committed adultery yet again with me.  Maybe it was the sight of his 
erect dick – something that almost always turns me on given that it’s hard 
because of me.  OK, so maybe I’m just a slut and I like to be fucked – sue me.

With all the starts and stops I never made myself cum on the way home but time 
certainly went by a lot faster when you’re fingering yourself while waiting for 
a long stoplight!  Finally I was home and I couldn't wait to strip and lay in my 
bed and finish myself off.  Actually, what I ended up doing was filling the 
bathtub with hot water and bubble bath soap.  Mmmmm, it felt so good to relax in 
the hot water as I played with myself.

After I’d finally gotten myself off and felt a little more calmed down, I laid 
out on the couch and waited for Kristi to get home from wherever she was.  I’d 
decided to tell her what happened and get her reaction – as if I didn't know 
already what it would be.  She would undoubtedly encourage me to do him again 
and frankly, at this point the idea didn’t bother me any more. 

If anything had come out of my “performance review”, it was acceptance of my 
situation.  Why fight it?  Why not enjoy it?  While I wasn't going to seek it 
out, the thought of my next “review:” no longer repulsed me.  Hmmmm, I started 
to wonder what I should wear to the next one... something a little more 
interesting under the conservative teacher outfit might be fun.  Oh well, I 
guess I'll just have to wait and find out when the time comes.

THE END

  

20090911 Compromises