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  • Elle Ch. 01

Elle Ch. 01

I'm a high school French teacher. I have been for a few years. For quite a few years before that, I was a portrait photographer.

I have photographed literally thousands of teenage girls. And today, I deal with them on a daily basis. Long ago, I got over the fact that they are very sexy and dress very provocatively on a daily basis. When I did portraits, they wanted to be especially sexy. I had to show less than they wanted to show in order to please their parents.

No matter what their hormones are doing to them, they are still kids. No matter how well developed they are physically, they open their mouths to speak and you know they are still kids. They lack the mental maturity to correspond with their physical maturity.

My buddies wonder how I can deal with these sexy, tight-bodied girls every day. Most say they couldn't do it. They'd get in trouble.

When I was younger, I kept a distance because I wanted to keep my business. As time went on, I began to realize that these sexy girls could easily be my daughters, age-wise. That takes a lot of the appeal away.

As a teacher, I deal with them on an intellectual level. I see that and the maturity level. Those things take away any sexual appeal, no matter how skimpy the outfit.

I have had to ask several girls to put on a jacket to cover the cleavage, or sweat pants because their butt cheeks were hanging out of their shorts. If I can't bend over your shoulder to help you with your worksheet without seeing your belly button, much less your nipples, you are not dressed appropriately for school.

As a 50-something man, I don't need the hassle. Cover up!

But I can't control my dreams. I have awakened many times from a dream of fucking one of my students very hard and having them suck my cock after until I fill their throat. This is wrong, but I have had these dreams since my photographer days. I just dismiss it, since I don't even have jerk-off fantasies about my students.

-

Last year, I lead my first spring break trip to France. Nothing can captivate foreign language students more than a visit to the country of origin.

For my group, I chose a 14-day trip that comprised three days in Paris and Versailles, three days in the Loire Valley (magnificent castles), three days in Provence (Avignon, Nimes and Marseilles, land of history and art), three days in Nice (the French Rivera), and ending with a final two days again in Paris. It was a small group, just eight students with two additional adults (parents of two of the students). We were two freshmen, three sophomores, two juniors and one senior. The parents were parents of the freshmen.

We had a wonderful experience. In spite of our small group, the timing dictated that we weren't combined with another group. We had our own guides and busses. We felt like royalty.

The company I had hired to conduct our tour is one of the best in the business. We ate in three-to-four star restaurants and stayed in three-to-four star hotels. My sales rep was a guy of my age, a former teacher. He respected my career change and my enthusiasm for my new profession. He anticipated that I would lead many such groups in my career (and I intended to do so). So, he made sure we were happy.

My kids and parents got a full dose of France. They ate, drank and lived France for almost two weeks. Everyone was happy and tired when we got back to Paris.

Our return visit was designed for students to choose what they wanted to revisit or to explore anew. It was self-directed. Students had to create their own plan and to commit to it.

My rep had set us up in a wonderful four-star hotel, on the right bank of the Seine River with a great view of the Hôtel des Invalides and the Eiffel Tower. My room was on the top floor (the fourth, the highest permitted in Paris). It had large windows and a balcony encompassing the view.

This was day 13, and I was exhausted. I had breakfast with the group and sent them on their chosen projects. I had not signed myself up to accompany any of them just because I wanted some down time. Day 14 was going to be intense, so I wanted to be well rested.

When everyone was gone, I retreated to my suite, stripped off my clothes and crawled between the soft poplin sheets. I intended to sleep a few more hours, have a wonderful lunch, and spend my afternoon in the Petit Palais museum – alone. I would return to being a responsible high school teacher at dinner.

-

I fell into a deep sleep engendered by 13 days of being responsible for 10 people in a foreign country, having to think in two languages simultaneously, and being old enough that hours of walking on cobblestones was crippling.

I awoke sensing another presence. I had no idea what time it was. Gradually, I realized that a warm body was pressed against mine. It felt good, so I closed my eyes and descended into sleep once again.

When I awoke again, it slowly dawned on me that someone was kissing me – my face, my neck, my ears, my shoulders. It felt wonderful.

When I could open my eyes, I saw Elle. Elle was my senior student on the trip.

She had been with me since freshman year. Then, she was a skinny, gawky girl. Puberty had been good to her. She had developed nice hips and good curves. I never could tell how big her breasts were. Some days they looked small, other days large. I had chalked it up to fashion, and hadn't thought about it much.

Elle favored tights and short shorts with low cut camisoles with see-through cover ups at school. Winter was tight knit dresses and leggings. I had spent two years trying not to notice.

She had beautiful, long, wavy auburn hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She was obviously a natural redhead, but with only a smattering of freckles. Her skin was pale as is expected, but with a note of warmth underneath, which is not.

As she kissed my neck, I realized that Elle was just as nude as I was. Fashion had made her breasts appear large. They were small and tight, maybe 34" Bs – just the kind I found the most sexy. Damn!

As she kissed me, she began to stroke her own breasts, letting out small sounds.

As my mind cleared, I realized that I was naked in bed with my senior student, who was naked as well, kissing and caressing me. My erection was growing and her nipples were hard.

This was bad. All I could see was the end of my teaching career.

"Ah, you are awake. That's nice. I've been snuggled up with you for a while. But I am hornier than ever. Now, I want you," she said.

I was still groggy from sleep. I tried to gather myself. "Elle, this feels so good. You are so beautiful, but we can't do this. I'm your teacher. If we have sex, I am violating a trust not to abuse my students. We will ruin your life and mine."

"Non, Monsieur. When I started your French I class, I was so backward. You showed me that I was a valuable person, with a lot to give. When I started to develop physically, you didn't ever look at me that way, the creepy way Mr. Cramer did. You gave me the courage to become a real person," she said, "not because I'm sexy, but because I'm a real person. The confidence I have to do all I have done in high school has come from your belief in me."

"Elle, you are one of my very favorite students, but I try to do that with all of my students."

"Monsieur, you helped me find in myself what I need to succeed. I want you to help me with one more thing."

"If I can," I answered as her fingers trailed over my stomach.

"Our guide told us that the only way to understand the French is to fall in love with a Frenchman. Monsieur, I don't love a Frenchman, I love you. You are as French as they are."

"Elle..." I began.

"Non, Monsieur," she interrupted. "I know I can't have you forever, we can't have a 'happily ever after.' But my boyfriend wants to have sex, and I probably will when I get back. But he is just a kid. I don't want to give my virginity to him in the back of a car on some country road in Jackson County, Illinois."

"Elle..." I began to protest (although it was getting harder, as her hand was now around my cock).

"Monsieur!" she almost shouted. "I turned 18 last month, so this isn't a crime. I want to share my virginity with a man I respect, admire and deeply love. I want to do it in a luxurious room with a view of the Eiffel Tower. Please help me make it special. I can't imagine a better way to become a woman."

I'm a total idiot. At the risk of my career, I made love with Elle.

I kissed her softly and deeply. I kissed her neck as she had kissed mine. I told her, "Good love making is a partnership. Each of you should derive a great satisfaction from the sharing," I said as I stroked those perfect, small tits. "If he just cums as soon as anything happens, he is a lout, a kid, or an asshole."

I kissed those small breasts and sucked the nipples hard until she started to moan. Then I worked my way down her tight, slender body. I licked her belly-button, poking my tongue into it. I kissed and licked her hip bones and as much soft skin as I could find.

Finally, I descended on her pussy. I started with her clit and worked it as hard as I could. She had a hand firmly around my cock, jacking it intermittently as she got horny.

I said, "You don't have to pay attention to my cock right now. Just enjoy what is happening to you."

"The harder your cock gets, the hornier I get," she replied.

I lay so she could access my cock as much as she wanted, but I started to suck and lick her pussy as much as I could. I gave her tongue tips and flicks on her clit and plunged my tongue up her cunt as hard as I could. I think she liked it. She came about three times.

"I need you to fuck me now, Monsieur. This is perfect."

I pushed the head of my raging hard cock at the parting of her pussy lips. Moistly, they spread for my hard dick.

"Elle, I can stop now." I wasn't sure I could, with my cock wet inside her pussy lips, but I felt I should offer.

"Monsieur, please fuck me hard right now. Fill my gaping pussy with your hard cock. Make my dream come true. Foutrez-moi! Maintenant!"

As I entered her pussy, she spread her lips and said, "Go slow, I want to watch myself give my virginity to my French lover. Push your cock in hard, but slow."

Her pussy was shaved bald except for a neatly trimmed strip leading to her clit. I pushed into her slowly. She spread her knees wide, reached down and parted her pussy lips, and leaned forward to see.

We watched as my cock eased into her pussy. She was incredibly tight, as one would expect. I went slowly so as to go as deep as I could without causing pain.

She let out a gasp and I stopped. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, you are just a lot bigger than the dildo I have been using. Go ahead and give me all of you."

So I went in until my balls were against her. "Hmmm..." she said. I pulled back and went in again. Slowly, we picked up our pace. She started to pinch my nipples as we ramped up our fucking. Our speed increased and her cunt loosened to accept my cock as it got harder and she got more excited.

Elle grabbed my ass and pushed my hips against hers, faster and faster. She pulled me against her and dug her nails into my back. I was pounding her hard and fast when she came. I could feel her pussy begin to throb on my dick as I slowed.

She wrapped her legs around me and pulled my hard cock into her tight as she writhed and moaned. I was sure my back was bleeding.

Her breathing slowed and her body relaxed. She wiped the sweat from her brow.

After a few minutes, she opened her eyes and looked into my face. "Ohmigod, you are still hard. You didn't cum."

"Control is one of the few advantages of age. Besides, I didn't want to be done yet," I replied.

"Wow! Will you take that hard cock and fuck me from behind? You know, dog-style? I've always heard that the guy's dick goes deeper into your pussy that way. I can't imagine anything deeper, but I want to try. Want to?"

At this point, I had already fucked my student and possibly my career, so why not? My cock was hard as I rolled her over.

She had never done this before, but I guess instincts just take over. She shoved her ass up in the air and buried her shoulders in the pillow. I knelt behind.

Her pussy was actually swollen and dripping. I had never seen that before. I guess a woman had never wanted me that much before.

I didn't even have to guide my cock. It stood out straight and her pussy was open. I just slipped it into her waiting slit and proceeded to pound at high speed from the outset.

She screamed at first and I almost stopped. Then she cried, "That feels fucking great! Pound that fucker home! Migod, I feel you so far up in me! Fuck me, fuck me!" She played with her clit as I pounded in and out of her demanding twat.

I grabbed her sweet ass cheeks, so soft and smooth and parted them to get as deep into her pussy as I could. She began to cum again. I was close, too. But I began to breathe deep and relax as she squirmed and wiggled through her orgasm.

She collapsed flat on her tummy when her orgasm subsided. I lay on her back, my still-hard cock just slightly inside her pussy lips.

Eventually, she came to herself. She reached down between her legs to massage her pussy and found my hard cock head just parting her still wet lips.

"Migod, you are still hard! Don't you ever cum?"

"I wanted to show you my favorite position, fuck you hard that way, and explode inside your pussy," I responded.

"Fuck me more, any way you want. I can't wait!" she said.

I rolled her onto her side and mounted her lower leg. The top leg, I pushed up high. Her wet, dripping pussy was wide open. "This way, I can get deep inside you and still play with your tits. I'm short enough, I can suck your nipples while I fuck you really deep."

"That sounds perfect!" she said as I slid my cock into her. I began slowly, kissing her on the lips, before moving down to suck her nipples. She began to moan immediately. After a few minutes of pounding her cunt and sucking her tits, I just grabbed onto those small orbs and fucked her as hard and fast as I could.

She put her hands on mine, rocked her pelvis against mine and began the moans and throbs of another orgasm. That is when I gave in and shot my jizz deep into her. As I shot more and more into her, she screamed and moaned. I bucked hard and squeezed her wonderful tiny tits as the last of my cum dribbled into her sweet cooze.

As our orgasms subsided, we collapsed into a sweaty, naked heap together.

Our arms were around one another, our bodies entwined, mutual moisture spreading. Eventually, she looked up at me and smiled.

"I guess it would be redundant to say that I have never been fucked like that before. But I can't imagine being fucked like that ever again. I can hope, but I can't imagine..."

"Elle, I've had lovers over the years. But I've never had a lover so responsive, so intuitive, so absolutely in synch with me. I guess I've never been fucked like that before, either," I answered.

We held each other for a long time, bodies entwined. We kissed softly. We dozed.

Sometime after noon, we woke together. Elle kissed my face and stroked my hair, even as our bodies still clung to one another. I massaged her back, her buttocks, her shoulders.

She smiled at me. "Do we have time to do it again?"

"Yes," I answered. "Just remember, we spent the afternoon at the Petit Palais."

"I already know what was showing there. I can talk about it. In the meantime, I want to suck your cock. Then I want to be on top, OK?"

"I can go with that," I answered as I admired her slim, wonderful body and her firm small tits. "Do with me what you will."

"Mmmm..." was her only response as she took my hardening cock into her mouth.

-

As the church bells chimed six, we awoke, once again intertwined and moist.

She looked deeply into my eyes. "We can't ever tell anyone about this, can we?"

"No, we can't."

"And we can't do it again, can we?"

"No, we can't"

"That's OK, we'll always have Paris."

-

After we returned, I worried that my life and career would end before the semester was up. What teenage girl could be expected to keep the secret that she had fucked her French teacher in Paris?

But there were no rumors, no whispers. Elle continued to date her boyfriend. The only changes in the classroom were the positive benefits of having a group of kids having an international experience.

I began to relax.

A few weeks before graduation, Elle stopped in my classroom during my prep period. Everything had been normal student/teacher since we had been back. No personal contact, just regular curriculum.

I must have acted tense, because Elle said, "It's OK, Monsieur, relax. I just wanted to tell you something I could never tell anyone else. I decided to go ahead and have sex with my boyfriend last weekend. It didn't go well."

"I'm sorry," I said, thinking back to how amazing Paris had been.

"It was in the back of a car, like I thought it would be. We didn't even take all our clothes off. When I reached down to touch him to guide him into me, he just jizzed all over me. He didn't try to kiss or lick me or anything. He just grinned like he had done something. He didn't even get inside me. For god's sake, at least I deserved a cock up the cunt. But he left me hanging.

"I was horny and wet and ready, and he thought he was done. I wiped off with tissues and told him to take me home. He knew I was mad, but didn't understand why. I broke up with him yesterday."

"Elle, give him a break. He's young and doesn't know anything. He'll get there."

"No, I'm done. If a man can't treat me like you did, I don't want him."

"Elle, age brings experience. A young buck can bring a power I can't. You might like that. Give it time."

"Okay, Monsieur. But if I don't find a young buck to do to me what I want by my senior year of college, can we do it again?"

"By then, I'll be almost 60. You won't want anything to do with me, but OK. It's a deal." I reached out my hand to seal the deal.

But Elle climbed into my chair, straddled me and pushed her pussy up against my now-hard dick and said, "Deal."

She climbed off and not another word or insinuation was made the rest of the year.

Elle graduated as salutatorian of her class, gave a speech at the ceremony, thanked me for our experiences abroad and some of her other teachers, and went off to college – she took her junior year at the Sorbonne.

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