Click-clack. Printer hums in the corner. Coffee aroma mixes with my perfume, thick in the air. Open-space buzzes: keyboards tapping, phones ringing. Gérard yaps about rugby. I zone out, eyes locking on him. Jérôme Rezzin. My old CM2 teacher. Now training our tourism office team. Those piercing green-blue eyes, flecked like gems. Skin tanned, mature. Déjà vu hits hard.
He glances up from his laptop. Smile flickers. I blush under my matte skin. Colleague nudges me. Lunch break looms. Brasserie chat replays: ‘Call me.’ Heart races. Back at desks, stolen looks across tables. Tension coils. Dossiers pile up. His session ends. He signals: my office review?
The Mounting Tension
Door clicks shut. Locked. Whirr of AC kicks in. Smell of fresh brew from his mug clings. ‘Églantine Rosier. Excellent pupil.’ Voice low, South-West accent gone pro. I perch on desk edge. Skirt hikes. ‘Maître.’ Whisper escapes. He stands close. Breath hot. Fingers brush my arm. Printer spits paper outside. Someone knocks—gone.
Eyes devour me. ‘Those eyes… extraordinary.’ Kabyle green, French blue swirl. Cheeks heat. Talk turns past. Couillac memories. Ballon-prisonnier. My crush. ‘Touched myself thinking of you.’ Bold. He freezes. Hand on thigh. Slides up. Panties dampen. ‘Sensitive tits still?’ Growls. Unbuttons blouse. Bra strains over full C-cups. Nipples harden instantly.
Desk clears with a sweep. Papers fly. Door rattles—false alarm. He yanks skirt up. Thong rips aside. Fingers plunge. Wet squelch. I gasp. ‘Fuck, so tight.’ Coffee mug topples, spills dark puddle. Mouse clicks echo as I grip edge. He drops pants. Cock springs, thick, veined. ‘Virgin for you, Maître.’ Lie? Truth? Doesn’t matter.
Explosive Release and Cool Mask
Pushes in raw. Desk creaks. Thrusts brutal. Short, sharp. Skin slaps. ‘Take it, slut pupil.’ Dirty growl. I claw back. Breasts bounce free. He mauls them. Pinch, twist. Electricity shoots. Moans muffled. Phone buzzes outside. Adrenaline spikes. Fear of bust. Harder. Pussy clenches. ‘Cum for teacher.’ Orgasms rip. Walls pulse. He grunts, floods deep. Hot spurts.
Pants heavy. Sweat beads. He pulls out. Cum drips. I wipe quick. Tits tucked. Skirt smoothed. Perfume spritz. Mirror check: ears hidden under laque-stiff hair. ‘Meeting now.’ Cool voice. He zips up. Unlocks door. Smile pro. ‘Great session, Églantine.’ Wink hidden.
Back to open-space. Sits casual. Gérard rambles. I cross legs, throb lingers. Coffee sip hides smirk. No one knows. Hierarchy thrill. Boss’s cum inside. Ambitious facade cracks private. Rush owns me. Door locked again soon?