Sky-Rise School: A Bisexual Polyamorous Romance

Chap 4: Princess of Lust

Daddy Big Dick emptied his jizz into me, and told me that I would be pregnant with his babies soon. Then he left. I lay on my mattress for a long while, questioning my life choices.

At length, I got up again and stretched. I remembered to take the morning after pill. Maybe it was ridiculous and horny of me, but I liked to live on the wild side. Often, I would have sex without a condom with a guy (not that any of them needed convincing!), and I wasn't on birth control. So I made them believe they could put a baby in me. Then I would remind myself to take a Plan B.

I touched my body and massaged my breasts. Daddy Big Dick had loved them, but he was rough. Not that I would blame him. If I were him, I would love to do that to a girl, too, though I cared more about consent than he did.

Speaking of girls, I thought about Odette all of a sudden. My college classmate was quite pretty, and had flirted not-so-subtly with me. But could I take her seriously? She sounded like a recipe for disaster, a player and heartbreaker. Not that I felt ready for a real relationship with anyone, let alone with a capricious girl like her.

I sighed and rolled over, exposing my bare bum. Without meaning to, I imagined my teacher, Mr Bolton, pushing my ass cheeks apart and then forcing his cock into me. He would ravage me thoroughly in the ass, and then he would conquer my poor pussy next.

Gosh, I felt so turned on just thinking about it. At the same time, I would love it if Odette could kiss me and play with my boobs while Mr Bolton fucked me from behind.

It wasn't the first time I fantasized about being gangbanged, but it was the first time I thought of a girl doing it to me too. Not that I never had the desire, but I just hadn't explored that part of myself much until now. And Odette was charming, despite how frustrating she was as a person.

Nevertheless, I sighed and dressed for bed, feeling lonely even in the midst of these heated daydreams.

The next day, in the classroom of Mr Bolton's course, I found myself nodding off even as I tried to solve the problems on the page. Odette and most of my other classmates were already gone to do the practicals, where they climbed the tall buildings. Some of them wanted to cast off the supportive cables, not that Mr Bolton let them.

Just when I was about to land face down on my notebook and fall asleep, a man appeared in front of my desk. Mr Bolton, of course.

The man always looked so stern. Was he ever happy? But I made a smug smile anyway, and sat up straight to stare him in the eye.

He stared back without blinking. He said, "Castella, you can always ask for help on the problems. And you are struggling."

"No, I'm not," I complained and shaped my lips into a pout.

Mr Bolton was unmoved. He shook his head. "You are, and there's no point denying it. Are you too embarrassed to seek help? There's no shame in needing a hand."

I shrugged and rolled my eyes up at the ceiling. It was a plain old ceiling, with some paint peeling off.

The man sighed and pulled up a chair to sit in front of my desk. It might be hard to get him to leave. He continued, "Listen, I don't want to make your life more difficult, but I also don't like to see my students suffer. You clearly do have trouble with these basic problem sets. If you never get through them and start the practical applications, what would be the point?"

I stared down at the table, and I crossed my arms over my chest. I waited without speaking.

The man sighed and scrubbed his hand over his scalp. He tried again. "Tell me what's bothering you, Castella."

"And you'll do what?" I snapped. "Fix it for me?"

Mr Bolton gave me a partial smile. "I can't claim to be a miracle worker, and I'm not your therapist, either. But I'm still your instructor and have years of experience in teaching this course."

And a fat bit of good his "experience" did. So I said, "I'll just keep pushing on until it's done."

Mr Bolton grimaced. We were at a stalemate. He placed his large hands on my desk, as if he wanted to corner me.

I eyed him with wariness, though I was also curious about what would happen. Before I could change my mind, I blurted out, "Touch me."

Mr Bolton looked so appalled that I would have laughed if I wasn't deadly serious. "Pardon?" he stammered.

My victory was near, and a slow smile formed on my face. I gazed at him through my long lashes. "If you really want to 'teach' me, fine. But you need to touch me. You can choose where."

I could see the indecision in his face, but I was gratified that he didn't say no right away. At last, he gritted his teeth. "You know that is unprofessional, Castella."

I smiled up at his handsome face. "Not if it's consensual. And I initiated it, so you get to stay the virtuous teacher." I paused for effect. "So where do you want to touch?"

My teacher said, "Consent has to go both ways."

I smirked. "I've never met a man who didn't want to have sex with me." A bit of a bold statement, but as long as a guy was straight or bi, he most likely wanted to screw me. I stared this man down. The fact that a student-teacher liaison was taboo, made it extra hot for me.

Mr Bolton glanced to the side, then he sighed. "Fine. Come into my office."

"What? Too scared to get caught groping your student?" I taunted him. But it aroused me to think that other people could find out what my teacher was doing to me — even though I was the initiator.

Mr Bolton still had that hard set to his jaw, and I bet something else was hard, too. His tone was clipped. "You can believe what you like. But please come to my office." He stood.

I stood too, though I still bantered back, "Okay, but you won't get to do anything you want."

Mr Bolton raised an eyebrow. "I don't plan to do anything further than what you suggested. But I do want to help you pass the course, at least. It frankly pains me to see a student struggle so much." He stalked off towards his office before I could stop him.

I frowned but packed up my books, and hurried after him.

***

His office was cozier than I expected. Aside from the usual table and chairs, he also had a nice sofa. The room was lit in a way that was neither too bright nor too dim; it was comfortable and relaxing. A whiff of fresh pine lingered in the air.

He waved for me to take the chair in front of the desk. But I plopped down onto his sweet sofa instead, and patted the spot next to me. After a moment's hesitation, he sat, his expression still vigilant. I flashed him a warm smile. "Now touch me, anywhere you like." I added in a mutter, "And I hope you enjoy it."

Mr Bolton furrowed his brows, and the way he looked at me, was like he was deciding the best move in a chess game. I would rather be treated like a sex object than to be analyzed like this.

At long last, he reached out and took a strand of my black, silky hair. He stroked it reverently, before he let it go again. "Satisfied?" he asked.

I scowled. Honestly I wanted him to at least fondle my breasts, which were heavy with longing now. I had a moment of insecurity. Did he find me unattractive? Maybe he was actually gay and I had misread him entirely.

Regardless, he folded his arms over his chest. "Castella, I've done what you asked. Will you now let me help you with your coursework?"

Damn, this man was cold as a rock. I glowered at him. I wished I could at least suck his dick and I bet he would enjoy it. But I would restrain myself for now, and bide my time. I dumped my books and pens onto his table, and waited for his interrogation to begin.