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Chapter Text

Niala climbs the stairs slowly, hugging the wall so that her bare feet keep to where each plank of wood joins to the supporting base. Her hope is that by doing this, she can avoid any possible loose or flexible boards. It might be entirely unnecessary. For all she knows the steps might be perfectly firm and steady, but it's worth not taking the risk. The rest of the house is dead quiet, and she can barely make out her path in the dark, even with her eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

She knows what she's doing is risky. It could ruin her life if things go wrong. But when else will she do this, if not now?

Niala has always been a model student. She has a bright future ahead of her, everyone who's taught her has said so. Including Mrs Fraiser, whose house she has now broken into.

Graduation is next week, and the week after that Niala will have to leave for her required month of Talent Assessment and Training. She'll be leaving, and she'll be going to college in Hudessa right after finishing TAsseT. She's not sure if or when she'll come back to Miben. She might never see Mrs Fraiser again. Never see her kind smile or hear her tinkling laugh or see the way her eyes glimmer when she makes a truly corny biology joke.

So it has to be now. Now or never.

Her feet step onto the top landing, and she can just make out the doors lining the hallway. She keeps her steps slow and light as she continues forward, peaking into any open doors and carefully opening closed ones as she goes. Searching.

She's a model student, so even though her Talent turned out to be absolute shit when it manifested, she had still been able to find a path forward to success. Being able to keep someone asleep or unconscious is useless at first glance. She can't knock them out, can't lull them into slumber, can only keep them in that state once they've already fallen into it. And she has to touch them the entire time to keep them there. Such a stupid, narrow Talent. So what could she use it for?

Hero support was the first thought. Transporting dangerous villains and keeping them subdued. But she's one person, and there's an entire industry built around Talent subjugation and criminal transport. They don't need her.

Next idea. A personal sleep aid for insomniacs and people who have trouble sleeping. There was maybe a niche she could fill there, if she could find a rich enough client. But it would be so… underwhelming. Possibly even degrading. She would have to stay in contact with them the entire night, every night. She'd be a glorified body pillow, at best.

So the next idea. And this was the one she had stuck with. Medicine. She would study medicine. And there her powers would be a possibly helpful feature, but not all she was good for. She could work in a hospital or as a field medic. And her powers could be used to help keep patients asleep through surgery in lieu of other methods.

So chemistry and biology had become her most important subjects, and that was how she came to really appreciate Mrs Fraiser. Enough to break into her house with dreams of more than just her teacher's kind smiles and proud touches to her shoulder.

There is another possible application of her power; one that would be key tonight.

The second to last door in the hall is the master bedroom. When Niala pushes the door, it opens to the outline of a large bed with lumps where sleeping bodies lie. She can hear the rhythm of someone's breathing, too low and heavy to be Mrs Fraiser.

She eases the door open further, wide enough to slip through, and her feet land on soft carpet. It's a pleasant change from the somewhat cool wood of the hallway. The darkness isn't as thick in here, thanks to a partially open curtain. As Niala walks toward the bed, steps helpfully muffled by the carpet so she can move a bit faster, she can just make out the curve of Mrs Fraiser's upper body, curled up with her back to the spread out form of her lightly snoring husband. His presence isn't ideal, but it's something she came here resigned to having to deal with. She just has to keep them both sleeping.

She pauses a few steps from Mrs Fraiser's side of the bed, taking in what she can of the older woman. The vibrancy she has when awake is missing, but she's beautiful when asleep as well. Her glasses are gone, her hair in a braided ponytail instead of the professional bun she wears at school. She looks relaxed, peaceful, unburdened.

Niala's heart picks up a beat as she stares, her half hard dick stirring in her underwear. This isn't an exact replica of her fantasies with her favourite teacher. In those, Mrs Fraiser is awake and smiling, peering up at her under hooded eyes and murmuring soft praises as they touch and hold each other, guiding Niala in what to do with her hands and mouth and dick. None of that will happen tonight, but Mrs Fraiser is too good of a person to sleep with a student anyway. This is the closest Niala can get. The one good thing her middling Talent can allow her to do.

She starts to take off her clothes, pulling her shirt up over her head and removing her bra. Carefully placing both on the floor. Then dragging down her shorts and underwear to join them. Her dick springs to life, still not fully hard but pointed directly at Mrs Fraiser, telling her exactly what it wants. As if she doesn't know. As if she doesn't want it too.

She's naked in a room with the most wonderful person in the world, she thinks. Her dick twitches its agreement, and Niala steps toward the side of the bed.

Mrs Fraiser's lower body is covered by the sheets, her upper half encased in a silky nightgown with thin straps. Niala flicks the switch inside herself that controls her Talent, and touches Mrs Fraiser's shoulder. Her dick rises a bit higher in the air at the knowledge that she's finally having this moment with her teacher. She pulls the sheet from the older woman's body, taking care to not disturb the portion that covers the man next to her. Niala's heart and dick both jump as she reveals long legs and underwear, exposed from how Mrs Fraiser's nightgown has ridden up in her sleep. Blood rushes to her dick as it rises to full attention, a second heartbeat pounding away between her legs.

She can see with her eyes adjusted to the dark, but it's not enough, and she eyes the table lamp at the side of the bed. Walking over to it, she spends a few moments looking and feeling it over until she locates the switch. It's on the cord instead of the lamp itself, which is a massive win, and she adjusts the lamp and cord to be closer to the bed so she can reach it when necessary.

Then she turns back to Mrs Fraiser. Looking down at her teacher like this sends a jolting thrill through her. Her Talent is still active, so she's not shy about slipping her hands over her teacher's cheeks, using her thumb to run along her lips. Though she does blush. Mrs Fraiser's lips are soft and plush. Niala can feel her soft exhales as they brush over her thumb. Her dick throbs as she shifts one hand to her teacher's chin, and gently pulls her mouth open.

She holds it there, keeping it open as she grips her dick to line it up. And then. And then, fuck. Her entire body shakes at first contact. The head of her dick brushes those beautiful pouty lips. The same lips that praise her work and encourage her interests. The mouth that tells her not to be shy, to be proud, that calls her wonderful. She pulls on her teacher's chin to open that mouth wide and pushes the swollen head of her dick inside.

It's hot and wet. She can feel herself brushing over Mrs Fraiser's tongue, along with a gentle scraping of teeth. Her breath catches in a gasp before she remembers she has to be quiet for now. Mrs Fraiser's husband is right there and not under her Talent yet. But maybe she can…

Niala pushes more of her dick inside Mrs Fraiser's mouth before letting go of her chin. Using her dick still counts as contact right? She's definitely never tested this before, but an instinctive part of her Talent says that yes, this counts. She can sort of tell when it's working on someone, a kind of pull on some non-physical entity inside herself. She can still make out that feeling, despite how much of her attention is circling around the fact that her dick is in Mrs Fraiser's mouth.

A shiver travels down her spine and curls in her gut. Her hips giving a shallow thrust without her approval. Oh gods, it feels amazing. She leans over Mrs Fraiser, knees pressing into the side of the bed as she braces herself with one arm behind her teacher. Mr Fraiser's arm is the closest body part she can reach. So she reaches out to hold it, fingers folding over a surprisingly malleable bicep. It feels like fat under her fingers instead of muscle. He didn't look overweight the few times she had seen him at school, but it looks like he doesn't work out at all.

Her dick twitches with a reminder of where it is and what it wants her to be doing. This position is awkward, and she can already feel the arm she's using to hold herself up straining. None of that stops her from pressing her hips closer to Mrs Fraiser's face. Pushing her dick further into that wet, warm mouth before pulling back and pushing in again. The bed stops her from sheathing herself entirely. She should have moved Mrs Fraiser's face right to the edge. But this is still good, still perfect. She moves her hips faster. Thinks about how this is Mrs Fraiser's mouth that she's fucking into, and feels her balls tighten up under her dick.

She allows herself to moan out loud. Everyone in the room will stay sleeping so long as she maintains contact. Her dick rubs over Mrs Fraiser's tongue, the head brushes against the roof of her mouth. This is so much better than she could have imagined.

With her stretched over the bed, she can't look down and see what it looks like; her dick in her teacher's mouth. So she closes her eyes and tries to picture it instead. Full lips stretched around her dick. The build-up of saliva she can feel. In her mind, Mrs Fraiser's eyes are open and smiling at the pelvis undulating in front of her face. Wishing she could take Niala deeper. She hums, in real life, not Niala's imagination, and the vibrations travel throughout the young girl's dick. Her eyes roll back under her eyelids, eyelashes fluttering as she groans a response.

“That feels great Mrs Fraiser. That feels wonderful, thank you.” She feels almost ready to burst, but she thinks she can hold herself back a bit more. Her arm trembles underneath her. She squeezes Mr Fraiser's soft arm as she thrusts her hips as hard as she can with the poor angle and her restricted movement. The bed holding her thighs back as she tries to push herself deeper. Her stretched out position keeps her from pulling back fully on every backward swing. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she chants.

She can feel a soft huff of breath over the portion of her dick not in Mrs Fraiser's mouth. The older woman swallows in her sleep and her entire mouth follows the motion. Her tongue presses up against Niala's throbbing dick, the cavern of her mouth growing close around her shaft and for a brief moment Mrs Fraiser sucks on it.

Niala whimpers and stills her hips. If she keeps going, she's going to cum in her teacher's mouth. The thought alone almost sends her over the edge. Her breathing is loud enough to overpower Mr Fraiser's snores, chest heaving and arm protesting as she holds herself up. She's reluctant to pull out, though she knows she has to. She's not deep enough to send her cum straight down Mrs Fraiser's throat, and that's not where she wants to send her seed anyway. Though it's very tempting.

She allows herself to calm down, until her arm signals that it's about to collapse under the strain of holding up her body. Then she lets go of Mr Fraiser's arm and pushes herself upright. Now she can look down and see Mrs Fraiser's closed eyes, and open mouth. Her dick nestled between lips that are slightly puffier than usual, a small trail of drool at one corner. It looks perfect. It looks right.

Forcing herself to pull out feels like a crime, and her dick protests as it leaves cozy warmth to the shock of cool air. That helps her calm down even further, though her dick still pulses angrily.

She feels more in control of herself as she touches Mrs Fraiser's leg and pushes her onto her back, then uses both hands to pull her panties down her legs. She keeps one hand on the older woman's ankle as she lifts the underwear to her face. She breathes in deeply, taking in as much of her beloved teacher's smell as she can, trying to commit it to memory. She already feels addicted to it. Placing the seat of it in her mouth and gripping it with her teeth is done before she even realises what she's doing. It's not something she ever imagined herself doing, sucking on another woman's panties. But it feels like the proper thing to do for Mrs Fraiser. She has to appreciate all of her.

Panties still in her mouth, a heavy flavour on her tongue and in her nostrils, she climbs onto the bed, being careful not to jostle Mrs Fraiser's husband as she does. She straddles her teacher's legs, dick twitching as their thighs press together and her balls brush against smooth, soft skin.

The nightgown is still ridden up, which means Niala can just make out the dim curves of her teacher's pussy. Soft curls darker against dim skin. Precum drips from her dick in anticipation. She didn't bring a condom. Has no intention to wear one. If Mrs Fraiser gets pregnant with her kid then they'll assume it's her husband's. No one but Niala will know that she gave her favourite teacher such a gift. She can only hope Mrs Fraiser is ovulating, and isn't taking birth control.

Niala's Talent is still working as she lifts the sheet over Mr Fraiser. He's in just his boxers, spread out and taking up most of the bed. She still needs both her hands for now, so she shifts her leg and settles down further onto Mrs Fraiser's legs, stretching out her right foot so her toes touch a hairy calf. Then she turns her focus back to his wife. Hands slide over smooth skin and wide hips, following the curve of her body as she lifts the nightgown out of the way, exposing the cute dip of a sunken navel, a taut abdomen, and then full, bountiful breasts capped by large nipples.

Niala's heart pounds as she leans over to hold Mr Fraiser's hand, to make sure she doesn't lose contact accidentally, then readjusts herself, dragging his hand along as she presses her naked body over his wife's. Her dick is loud and demanding in her head, but she's not done setting up yet. She stretches her free hand out to the side, feeling Mrs Fraiser's breasts pressing into her own, so much larger and so soft. Her dick throbs in jealousy, but she ignores it. It will be happy soon enough. She strains to see where she placed the lamp cord and finds it. Running her hands along the length until she finds the switch and then flips it.

Brightness. She has to turn away and blink the spots out of her eyes. Then she rests her hand on the pillow beside Mrs Fraiser's head and pushes herself up to properly see her teacher for the first time tonight. Her brown skin looks softer without makeup, a natural elegance around her closed eyes without her playful winged eyeliner. There's a small dark dot at the corner at the corner of her jaw that Niala wants to kiss. So she does, removing Mrs Fraiser's now damp panties from her mouth and placing them on the pillow beside her head. Then she tilts her teacher's head up to kiss her directly on her lips. Closing her eyes and remembering that her dick had been in this mouth not even five minutes ago.

She hums into the kiss, pushing her tongue between lips that don't resist. Such a wonderful mouth Mrs Fraiser has. Even now it sings Niala's praises. The tongue she brushes doesn't shy away, and Niala finds herself rocking into her teacher's body as she explores her mouth fully. She tastes a bit sweet, with a hint of something bitter underneath. That's her precum she realises. She remembers the taste from her own experimenting. She feels more pre push from the tip of her dick as she tastes herself in Mrs Fraiser's mouth.

This is the best idea she's ever had. She almost missed having this moment. Almost left Mrs Fraiser behind forever. Disappeared to TAsseT without leaving anything of herself behind; just another student passing through Mrs Fraiser's classroom - gifted, but no more special than that.

She pulls back her tongue to suck on her teacher's bottom lip. Releasing it with an audible pop and licking her lips clean of drool.

Her dick is so hard it's bordering on painful. So she drags Mr Fraiser's hand along the bed as she rests her weight on her elbow, and places her forehead in the dip of Mrs Fraiser's collar as she uses her other hand to hold her dick and press it between the older woman's legs.

Soft. That's the first thing she feels. Then she presses further and feels the skin underneath the patch of hair. She pushes herself up against her teacher's vulva, breathing heavily as the lips of her pussy part open to let the head of her dick touch soft, smooth flesh. She moves the tip of her dick up and down. Finding the nub that is Mrs Fraiser's clit. Feeling the wings of her inner labia. And then that soft depression that gives way, opening itself up to the press of her dick. Eager to welcome it. She doesn't want to hurt her beloved teacher; wants her to enjoy this as much as Niala is going to, so she doesn't push in dry.

She takes the time to work Mrs Fraiser up. Torturing herself as she runs her dick up and down the woman's slit, pushing against her clit. Familiarising herself with every soft dip and curve while spreading her precum all over her teacher's pussy. She teases at her entrance, playing at pushing in, testing how easily it opens. It's torture. So she distracts herself by hunching over, shifting her head down so she can capture one nipple between her lips. She wishes she had the use of her other hand, but she has to make sure Mrs Fraiser's husband doesn't wake as she's fucking his wife.

Burying her face in Mrs Fraiser's generous tits helps distract her from how badly she wants to push her dick in Mrs Fraiser's pussy. The woman's nipples growing hard and sweet in her mouth as she alternates between them, kissing and sucking and worrying them between her teeth. She goes to lick a line from teat to jaw and is stopped by her teacher's bundled up nightgown, so diverts back down, pressing open mouth kisses into soft flesh up the opposite mound and back to an erect nipple, which she sucks in her mouth like babe.

Mrs Fraiser moves underneath her. Body waking up to her building arousal. Little puffs of breath above Niala's head match the heave of the breast in her mouth. Legs pressed up against her shift, opening wider, giving her more room to work. Because Mrs Fraiser likes this. Likes her. Wants her attention on her breasts and between her legs.

On one pressing pass over her entrance the muscles give way, opening wide so smoothly Niala doesn't even notice as the head of her dick slides completely into the older woman's pussy. She does notice the shock of warmth, the sudden encasement in soft flesh. Her dick spasms, some unknown force pulling her hips forward to push herself deeper as Mrs Fraiser arches under her, into her. Their combined moans echo in the quiet room, Niala's louder and longer and so much more needy. Her entire body tenses, balls pulling up as a swelling at the base of her dick threatens to spill over. She barely stops herself from blowing her entire load just then. Panting into the valley of her teacher's breasts as her dick throbs angrily at its second denied release. But she wants to do this properly. She wants to feel everything. She can't finish so soon, without having even fully explored the inside of her teacher's pussy. Her dick isn't even all the way in yet! Not even close to halfway, even with the extra uncontrolled push.

She's not going to be a two minute lay. Not with Mrs Fraiser. She refuses. Her favourite teacher deserves more than that. She deserves Niala's best.

Her blood is still pounding heavily in her dick, pressure still built up at the base of it, but she manages to pull herself back from her threatening orgasm. Mastering herself enough so she's fully in control as she pulls back her hips, so that just the tip of her dick dips into her teacher's pussy. Niala takes a steadying breath and then pushes back in.

Warmth. Soft but tight. Wet heat. Soft muscles pressing down on every inch of her dick even as they part to let her through. Her sensitive head leads the way, charting the path into Mrs Fraiser's folds, massaged by the inner muscles that celebrate its presence. Like they were waiting on her. What took you so long, Mrs Fraiser's pussy seems to say. She's been ready for a while.

Niala releases a shaky breath, releasing her dick now that she doesn't need to guide it, and pressing her palm to the bed to push herself up. First looking up at Mrs Fraiser's sleeping face, pouty lips swollen and shiny from their kissing and from taking the very dick her hungry pussy is now trying to gobble down. Then she looks down between their bodies, watching as more and more of her dick disappears below the curve of the older woman's vulva. She wants to see, so she sits up, squeezing the hand she still holds to make sure she doesn't forget it.

Mrs Fraiser's pussy has opened up around her dick like it was always meant to be there, inside her. Her soft dark curls glistening in the light along with every exposed bit of her cunt. Her clit standing proud above it all like a crowning achievement. Niala brushes her thumb over it, feels how hard it is and acknowledges that she did that. She's responsible for how good Mrs Fraiser is feeling right now. Her dick twitches inside the other woman, reminding her that she's not done yet. She has more to give.

She lifts her left leg enough for her to use her free hand to pull Mrs Fraiser's leg from underneath her. The movement pulls her dick almost all of the way out, so she hurries as she awkwardly does the same with the other leg. Now between her teacher's legs instead of straddling her, it's easier to push more of herself into the older woman's pussy. Mrs Fraiser welcomes her back in without admonishment. Warm, soft muscles squeezing her dick in encouragement as she leans forward again. The last few inches push in and Niala shudders as her hips press up against Mrs Fraiser's. Her pubic hair mixes with Niala's own, the skin of her inner thighs framing Niala's hips.

Niala pulls back, pulling out until just her head is still inside, and then pushes back in, groaning as her teacher's hips tilt up to meet her. She goes back down onto her elbows, feeling their breasts slide and press against each other as she pulls back again. Thrusting in even faster this time. She takes it back. This is the best thing she's ever done in her life.

Her Talent keeps Mrs Fraiser and her husband blissfully asleep as Niala settles into a rhythm. She remembers every tip and guide she's read, every video she's studied, and tries to put the best of it into practice. Adjusting the angle of her thrusts so her dick rubs along Mrs Fraiser's inner walls. Listening for any hitches in her teacher's breathing, making note of what has her moaning in her sleep, what gets her hips to rock into each stroke. As a perfect student, she's great at multitasking, so as she pays attention to the signs of her teacher's pleasure and focuses on bringing them out consistently, she also memorises the feel of heated pussy muscles pressing around her dick and squeezing the head. Commits to long term memory the little gasps Mrs Fraiser gives and the way she arches into Niala's thrusts, wanting more of her dick.

Niala is in heaven. Her dick is joyous. Her favourite teacher is clearly enjoying being fucked by her. Taking in her full length as Niala moves faster and harder. Their lovemaking fills the room, the sounds of her dick entering and leaving wet, sucking flesh causing warmth to curl comfortably in her chest, the smell of sex pleasant in her nostrils. The bed moves underneath them, moves with them, as Niala puts more weight behind each pounding swing.

It's wonderful. She's been close all this time, holding herself back to give Mrs Fraiser the best experience possible, and now she gets to let loose. Fucking her as hard as she can, putting all the built up tension and frustration into her penetrating thrusts. And Mrs Fraiser, as kind and accommodating as always, accepts everything Niala gives her.

The pressure in her dick builds for the third time tonight, pushing her to slam into the older woman's pussy again and again and again until… tight. Mrs Fraiser arches on the bed, head swinging to one side as her knees and hips lift. Muscles clamp down on Niala's dick, squeezing for all their worth, pulling a broken groan from her open mouth as her hips jerk into her teacher's grip. Pushing deeper, forcing herself through the tight, contracting corridor as the pressure in her dick reaches a crescendo and she comes.

They orgasm together. Mrs Fraiser's pussy milking her pulsing dick for every last drop of cum. She unloads into her gladly, then pulls back once through still tight muscles to push in again and shoot another load as deep as she can manage. Her entire body shakes with the effort. She can feel some of her cum along the slick walls around her dick as they start to relax, and that sets her off again. Thrusting in once more, her moan guttural, pressing hard against her teacher's pussy so she can feel the hard point of her clit on the skin above her dick, through the barrier of her pubic hair. She can feel each pulse of relief travel up her shaft and exit her slit. Her dick jumping with each tensing of muscle.

And then it's over. She's left panting, buried inside Mrs Fraiser, grinning widely at the knowledge that she just brought her to orgasm and fucked her full of her seed.

She bends back down over her teacher, burying her face in her tits, using her free hand to squeeze and press one mound against her cheek. Running up to the tip to pinch a still hard nipple between her fingers.

She hopes Mrs Fraiser gets pregnant. Hopes a little Niala grows in her womb as a result of tonight.

Niala shifts her hips, thinking. She's still semi-hard, nestled in her teacher's cunt. And she still has several hours before daylight. She also has an entire week and a half before she has to leave Miben.

Her dick stirs. She's a little bit tired, but the thought of feeling Mrs Fraiser tight and wet around her again, arching into her as she moans, fills her with extra energy.

Just one more time for tonight before she cleans up and goes on her way. Just once more, so she can fill Mrs Fraiser with so much cum she'll have to lick her clean after. One, maybe two more orgasms for her favourite teacher. She deserves it, and a week full of pleasurable sleep - all of the fun without any guilt from the knowledge of what's really happening.

Niala sits herself up and pulls back her hips. She can already feel her dick hardening again. Ready for the second round. She pushes back in, hard and fast. Something bubbles between them. How much cum did she shoot inside her teacher, she wonders.

Well, it hardly matters. She squeezes the hand she still holds, ensuring it's still there and Mr Fraiser remains unaware of what's happening with his wife, and starts to fuck Mrs Fraiser again. She'll be sure to last even longer this time. Mrs Fraiser deserves it.

Chapter Text

Mrs Fraiser is the same as always the next day. Her class an hour and a half of warmth and sunlight under her bright smiles and friendly conversations. The last week of classes is mostly optional for seniors, only a few hard-ass teachers having actual lessons planned. Most treat their classes as open study sessions or focus on providing college prep assistance, looking over last minute application letters or giving advice on study areas to focus on.

Only five people show up to Mrs Fraiser's class, Niala being the only one to change seats in order to be in the front row. They made light conversation at the start, Mrs Fraiser's words bright and encouraging, before breaking off into their own things to pass the time. Niala pretends to look over her itinerary for her first day at TAsseT while observing her teacher.

Mrs Fraiser gives no indication of discomfort or worry. Her just showing up at school today is a good sign. If she had woken up and felt that she had been raped she likely wouldn't be here, acting normal. If anything, her smiles seem a bit wider, a touch happier. She's clearly in a great mood. Niala's dick twitches in her panties, well, in Mrs Fraiser's panties. She had grabbed a pair that had looked like they might fit her narrower hips from a drawer before she left, the night before. The result was her walking around half hard during random portions of the day.

Even now, just thinking about what she's wearing has her dick stiffening in the restricted space. But that isn't her focus.

Her focus is Mrs Fraiser. Happier than normal Mrs Fraiser. It has to be because of Niala, right? Because of how good Niala made her feel the night before. She had put a lot of effort into getting her teacher to orgasm three times. Had spent a quarter of an hour between her legs, eating her out and cleaning up any cum that didn't remain deep in her pussy. Remembering it made her blush, just as Mrs Fraiser looked up from her folder and caught Niala staring. She smiled her, smiled at her! Before looking back down at her work. Like she approved. Like she agreed. Like she was encouraging Niala to do it all again. And she would. For Mrs Fraiser, she would do anything.

—

Niala is more confident as she slides open the glass door to Mrs Fraiser's backyard. It's sometime after one in the morning and Mrs Fraiser's house had gone dark over an hour ago. She takes off her shoes before stepping inside, to not track in dirt and keep her steps light, then slides the door closed behind her.

The house gets darker as she moves further in, but her eyes adjust, as they had yesterday, and she remembers the path well enough to avoid most of the wandering she had done the night before, heading straight to the main stairwell.

She uses the same trick of sticking to the wall to avoid any creaking stairs, only pausing at the top of the staircase to make sure the lights in every room are off. It would be bad if she walked forward blindly while Mrs Fraiser or her husband were across the hall using the bathroom or something. She pushes open the door to the bathroom as she passes it, just to make sure, then makes her way to the master bedroom.

It's the same as last night. The dark outline of the bed. The curve of bodies under covers. The partially open curtain providing just a bit of light. Even the lamp is the same as she left it, pulled closer to the edge of the bedside table, cord and switch within reach of the bed.

Mr Fraiser isn't snoring as much tonight, and Niala shuffles closer to the bed, taking a moment in the still room to observe wife and husband. They're both fast asleep. Mrs Fraiser is curled up against her husband's side, head resting on his arm. He's spread out on his back, as he was the previous night. Niala looks at them both, frowning as she thinks. She won't be able to put her dick in Mrs Fraiser's mouth this time.

There's a low surge of jealousy in her gut at seeing her beloved teacher curled up in someone else’s arms. But she quickly and viciously smothers it. She's not here to ruin a marriage. She's not here to take Mrs Fraiser for herself. She's here to give back to the teacher who made her last year at school special. That's the primary goal.

Her dick stirs, both agreeing and disagreeing.

If nothing else, them being closer together means she won't have to stretch as much to keep contact with both of them.

She takes a second to decide on how she wants to approach this, before pulling her shirt over head and taking off her shorts. Her bra and Mrs Fraiser's panties are the next to go. The panties she buries in the laundry hamper next to the closet. She'll grab a new pair on her way out.

There's enough space for her on the bed behind Mrs Fraiser, so Niala takes a deep breath, flicking the switch on her talent before lifting the covers and gently pressing her fingers to the back of Mrs Fraiser's neck so she doesn't notice the movement. She climbs onto the bed slowly, resting her head behind her teacher's, on Mr Fraiser's arm. So long as she keeps her head here she won't have to worry about him, and she can make use of both her hands.

Her breaths come a little deeper as she pushes the sheet completely out of the way, exposing Mrs Fraiser's body to the dark of the room, legs smooth against Niala's own. By the time Niala pulls the older woman's panties down to her knees, her dick is rock solid. Pushing the shaft into the small space at the apex of her thighs is easy.

Niala shudders as she does. Gods does it feel good to have her dick up against Mrs Fraiser again. She had wanted to try something else today. Wanted to hold her head close to the edge of the bed so she could bottom out down her throat and feel her teacher swallow her cum. Wanted to eat her out before fucking her raw and having her second try at forming a baby. But she has time; she has days. This is good too.

She moves her hips, realising that this is her first time feeling Mrs Fraiser's ass. She's actually cuddling her teacher; spooning her like a lover. Her shaft slots between the lips of the older woman's vulva and it's different from the night before. Still great, still amazing, but it's silk heat sliding along the length of her dick, pulling at her foreskin, instead of pressure concentrated on her head. It's not as intense. She can last longer like this, she knows. Take more time to enjoy the feel of Mrs Fraiser's pussy. It's not nearly as attention consuming.

And her hands! She squeezes one through the tight space under Mrs Fraiser's body, hugging her from behind, and lets her hands explore. She tugs at the camisole, pulling it up her teacher's chest so she can feel pleasantly warm skin under her fingers. She fucks Mrs Fraiser's thighs as her hands push upwards, reaching her breasts, so large in her hands. With both hands available, she can squeeze them simultaneously, and gods does it feel good to have a tit in each hand as her dick rubs against Mrs Fraiser's pussy.

“You're the best teacher in the world,” she whispers. Then remembers she doesn't need to be quiet at all. “Your pussy is amazing.”

Niala can feel herself blush. She's not used to saying these kinds of things out loud, but her dick pulses with encouragement. It's embarrassing, but there's no one but her as a witness, and saying these kinds of things to Mrs Fraiser is so hot.

“Did you like being fucked full of my cum yesterday,” she pants. She twists two large nipples, using them like levers to bounce Mrs Fraiser's breasts. They're so heavy. Big and beautiful and weighty.

Her dick feels a bit more slick between her teacher's legs, and after a few more slow thrusts Mrs Fraiser starts to rock back into her a little. The movement is lazy with sleep, but with their bodies moving in tandem comes something new. Her dick catches on Mrs Fraiser's clit when she pushes forward, and pulling back as Mrs Fraiser rocks away has the head of her dick pushing against a now familiar depression.

Niala rolls a nipple between one pair of fingers as her other hand squeezes as much of her teacher's breast as she can hold. When she pushes her hips forward her dick nearly pushes into Mrs Fraiser's entrance before slipping away.

“Mmm,” she hums. “You want my dick, don't you?” She pulls back, then goes forward again, feels Mrs Fraiser start to open up around her cock before the tension releases and it once more slips away. “You want my big fat cock up your juicy pussy. Want me to fuck you nice and slow and fill you up. How much of it do you want Mrs Fraiser?”

Her dick catches again, the head starts to push in, and it's almost… almost… but not yet. It slides away again. And Mrs Fraiser feels so wet now. So slick and slippery, her nipples hard points that press into Niala's hands with each deep, low, heavy breath.

“How much of my cum?” It feels so good to say. Niala lowers the hand not pinned under her teacher's body, running over a flat stomach, then soft curls. Her fingers reach between parted lips to touch a hard clit and Mrs Fraiser shudders in her arms. “I'm gonna give you all of it. Every last drop. You loved it so much yesterday, I know you can hardly wait.”

This time when she moves her hips forward she actively tries to get her dick inside her beloved teacher's pussy. The first try fails as she starts to rub her teacher's clit. Fuck, that's Mrs Fraiser's clit she's touching right now. When she slides her fingers lower for a second it's Mrs Fraiser's wet pussy she's feeling up. Slippery and hot and ready for her.

The second try is a slow push that has the tip pushing into Mrs Fraiser's hot cunt, then her entire head pops in. After that it's easy. She lets out a long moan as the rest of her dick pushes inside her teacher. It feels just as great as it did yesterday. Better even, for getting to do this a second time. It's warm and wet and close and she can tell how much Mrs Fraiser loves having her there. Loves having Niala inside her. Gods, it's so hot. She starts to move her hips back and forth. Slow like she promised.

“You feel so good,” she moans. “Do you want to have my babies, Mrs Fraiser?” Her teacher's cunt squeezes her at that moment.

“Was that a yes?” she asks, giggling.

“I'll fuck you real good, I promise.” Her dick throbs with each thrust of her hips. The fact that Mrs Fraiser rocks back into her has her feeling high. Like she's been drugged. She could blow her load right now – hopefully the first of many tonight – but she had promised to go slow. To take her time and make sure Mrs Fraiser feels good.

She rubs Mrs Fraiser's clit more intently, ears tuned to every hitched moan and drowsy whine. Her dick pulses at each sound, ready and waiting, surrounded by hot, wet pussy. Mrs Fraiser's hot, wet pussy. She still can't believe she's having sex with her teacher. Can't believe she's pressed up against Mrs Fraiser's ass, with one hand on her tits and the other on her clit. Can't believe that's Mrs Fraiser's pussy squeezing her so lovingly as she fucks into her. It's surreal.

“Come for me please, Mrs Fraiser? Milk my dick just like you did last night. Beg for my cum like a fucking slut.” She pants into her teacher's neck, heart beating crazily in her chest as she opens her mouth and lets the words flow. “I’mma fuck your whore pussy. Fuck it til its sore. Fuck it til its mine. Your pussy is mine Mrs Fraiser. You agree, don't you? That's why you're gripping me so tight. You're such a slut. Fuck, your pussy is so good. It's mine. It's mine.” She doesn't know what she's saying. Just squeezes Mrs Fraiser's generous breasts and rubs and rubs and rubs her clit, feeling muscles flexing around her dick on each thrust.

“Come you fucking slut! Come on my dick like a whore. Come and I'll fuck you full of my babies. Show me how much you want it!”

She squeezes the breast in her hand roughly. She's worked herself into a frenzy. Is about to burst and finish before she gets Mrs Fraiser to orgasm, when that wonderful ass presses backwards into her, hot convulsing muscle trying to swallow even more of her dick as Mrs Fraiser moans her orgasm in her sleep. The feel of her squeezing down on her dick drags Niala over the edge, groaning.

“Fuck,” her voice is so low she almost doesn't recognize it. “That's a good slut. Good fucking slut. The best. Take it.”

She moves her hips. Starts fucking Mrs Fraiser again before her orgasm even finishes. Mrs Fraiser's hungry cunt still milks her dick. Muscles pulling at her length. It's glorious.

“I'm gonna fuck you real good. You love this. You love being my little slut. Love being full of my cum.”

She wants more.

“Fuck your whore pussy real good,” she mumbles.

She needs more. The hand on Mrs Fraiser's clit moves down to her thigh. It takes a bit of shuffling to get her grip under it, low enough for her to lift. She belatedly remembers to keep contact with Mr Fraiser's arm under her head as she shifts a bit lower on the bed. Mrs Fraiser's leg is dead weight as she lifts it. And her arm strains until she has it high enough to reach under her knee and let gravity pull it the rest of the way. Now when she fucks into her teacher, her hips move up instead of forward.

The dark shadow of Mrs Fraiser's raised leg fills her head with images of how it must look from the bottom of the bed. Mrs Fraiser's leg high in the air to show the world Niala's dick inside her pussy. Messy and sticky from them cumming.

She thrusts a bit harder, a bit faster. Pants her wants into the back of Mrs Fraiser's neck and listens to her moan back. She puts such effort into her thrusts that the mattress shifts on the heavy bedframe and Mrs Fraiser's breasts bounce in and against her hand. For a second she worries Mrs Fraiser will feel it in the morning. But so what if she does? Her slut teacher loves every minute of this. Her pussy still squeezes Niala so wonderfully, pleading for more. No one will be able to tell it was Niala anyway. It's not like her DNA is in any database.

And they sound so good together. Their mingled moans, the clap of their skin meeting, the wet sounds Mrs Fraiser's pussy makes as Niala fucks her cum filled hole.

Fuck. She just came inside her teacher. Some of the lubrication she's feeling, that helps her slide in and out so wonderfully, is her own jizz. Her dick feels impossibly hard, even though it's too soon. She wants to come again.

Mrs Fraiser moans in her arms and Niala groans.

“Give you another load,” she mutters. “Since you want it so fucking bad.” She sacrifices speed for force and depth, slamming into her teacher's spread open cunt like she wants to shove her balls inside too. “You're such a fucking slut Mrs Fraiser. My slut. Don't worry, I'll fuck you as much as you want.”

Her body feels tired, but she doesn't let that slow her down. Each thrust ends with a resounding clap. She can feel her balls swaying under her dick with the force of it. This is probably the best she's ever fucked anyone in her life.

“You take it so well.” She's panting between each thrust. She can feel sweat running down her back. “The best fucking pussy. You're such a whore Mrs Fraiser. Spreading yourself open just for me. Just for me to fuck you and fill you up.”

She angles her hips into each thrust and Mrs Fraiser groans in her sleep. Her cunt clenching. They feel so wet where they're joined together.

“Gonna come for me again? Come like a slut with your leg up in the air?”

Her teacher moans into each upward thrust. Niala can tell she's close, but a familiar pressure in her dick lets her know she's in a race. She can't reach Mrs Fraiser's clit while holding up her leg. So she focuses on her breasts and the way she moves her hips into each thrust. There should be a spot somewhere on her front vaginal wall. Niala thinks she found it the night before. She tries to find it again as she pounds into her teacher. The feeling in her dick swells and swells. Mrs Fraiser's leg shakes in her arm. She's not even moaning anymore, just a constant breathy whine as she's properly fucked by her student. Niala knows the older woman is close. If she can just. Hold. On.

She slams into Mrs Fraiser's pussy and stays there as the pressure in her dick explodes. She can feel each rope of cum as it shoots into her teacher's cunt. And for a moment she's disappointed, even through the bliss of release. Then Mrs Fraiser's cunt clamps down around her, and her ass presses into Niala again as her back arches, tit pushed into Niala's grip, and a loud, long moan of pure pleasure escapes her teacher's lips. It's so hot Niala's dick twitches out another burst of cum and Mrs Fraiser presses into her even harder.

She's coming from the feel of Niala releasing inside her. She's coming from the feel of Niala's seed shooting deep in her cunt.

“Good bitch,” Niala whimpers. “That's right. You love this.”

It's almost too much. Niala feels sweaty and exhausted, like she gave Mrs Fraiser everything and yet she still wants more. Her orgasm peters out and still Mrs Fraiser's pussy refuses to let her go, muscles still massaging her dick, drawing out a few final weak spurts. Milking her dry.

When it's finally over Niala has to blink herself awake, at the precipice of falling asleep. She doesn't think she has another round in her tonight, even if she takes a break.

She pulls back her hips to slide her dick out of Mrs Fraiser's pussy, shivering at the sudden shift in temperature. Then lowers Mrs Fraiser's leg.

She breathes heavily, thoughts sluggish, before swinging her leg over her teacher's, searching with her foot until she touches a leg that hasn't seen a razer. Then she tugs her hand free from under Mrs Fraiser's body and pushes herself to sit up.

She's very sweaty, she realises. And her dick is a lovely mess. She looks down at Mrs Fraiser, at her sleeping face, what she can make out in the dark. Her gaze glides over dark contours, past the line of her jaw and the dip in her collar, the bundled up camisole, to her still heaving breasts. Her nipples stand out from her chest. Niala can't remember all of what she did or said, but she hopes she wasn't too rough with her beloved teacher. Hopes she had sweet dreams as Niala fucked her silly.

“You're not a slut Mrs Fraiser,” she feels obligated to say. She brushes a sweaty palm over a flat stomach, cradling it; imagines she can feel her cum working away in her teacher's womb, swimming towards her ovaries. “I'm sorry I said that,” she blushes. “You're an amazing person, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate you.”

She hesitates, then bends down to press a tender kiss to her teacher's cheek. “I'll stay a bit longer. To give our bodies time to calm down. So you don't wake up the moment I let you go…”

She sighs. “Then I'll leave. But I'll be back tomorrow night. I'll be nicer then, I promise. More considerate.”

She doesn't lie back down on the bed, worried she'll fall asleep if she does. Counting the seconds in the dark is hard and uncertain, but she tries to give it ten minutes before she carefully detaches herself from the couple and makes her way off the bed.

She's so tired she almost forgets to clean up after herself. She's too exhausted to bring Mrs Fraiser to another orgasm, so she focuses on just licking clean the evidence between her legs, sticking her tongue into her teacher's still wet pussy to swallow down anything that might leak out during the night. Her limp dick twitches weakly as she does, but it's got nothing left to give tonight, just as exhausted as Niala herself is.

She dresses slowly, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from Mrs Fraiser's drawer. This one is a bit too wide at the hips, but her shorts keep it in place well enough. She tries to smooth out the sheets a bit where she had lain on them; make them look a normal amount of ruffled and not like a third body had been there.

Then she leaves, tired feet dragging through soft carpet and then along hard wood.

But she'll be back tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Niala wakes up around noon on Saturday, blinking her eyes open with a yawn and a pleasant stretch. She rolls onto her back, gazing up at the ceiling as her thoughts drift aimlessly in a just-woken daze.

Then she remembers the night before.

Then she imagines Mrs Fraiser waking up just like she is. Niala didn't leave behind any evidence, but she imagines Mrs Fraiser getting out of bed with dried cum on her pussy and thighs. Imagines Mrs Fraiser knowing that it's Niala's cum and smiling that soft, pleased smile as she reaches between her legs to touch the evidence.

Niala matches the movement, palming her dick through the fabric of the underwear she borrowed. It fits poorly on her narrow hips, but that just makes it easier to move with her hand as she rubs her stiffening shaft.

In her picture of Mrs Fraiser this morning, the older woman moans Niala's name as she lifts her rumpled camisole to grip one massive tit. Her other hand pushes further between her legs as she spreads them wide. Middle finger lazily pushing into her cunt, head thrown back to expose her neck.

Niala's dick grows hard quickly, hand gripping herself through the panties, sliding up and down to the pace of her teacher's imaginary finger.

She can hear her teacher so clearly.

“You're so good, Niala. Come and sleep with me again tonight. I want to feel you filling me up again.”

The image is so realistic now that she knows exactly what her teacher looks like under her blouse and skirts. The background warps from Mrs Fraiser's bedroom, dark and formless, to the day-lit classroom, bright and sunny with her teacher leaning back against her desk - skirt raised and blouse unbuttoned. Her dick throbs under her hand. She doesn't try to hold herself back, doesn't try to extend it. She cums in Mrs Fraiser's panties as the woman in her head pushes a second finger into her cunt, spreading herself open and telling Niala to aim right there.

Then she lies panting on her bed. She'll have to wash this underwear before giving it back. The cum slicked material actually feels a bit gross to keep wearing. But the realisation that Mrs Fraiser will one day wear this pair of panties cheers her up enough to ignore it.

She pushes herself to her feet and starts making her way to the bathroom, feeling giddy. Tonight is another date with her favourite teacher.

–

Mrs Fraiser isn't in the bed.

Niala freezes, the beat of her heart accelerating to a rolling pulse in her ribcage.

Mrs Fraiser isn't in the bed. There's just Mr Fraiser, snoring loud enough that Niala heard him from the top of the staircase.

Niala quickly backs out of the room, closing the door as quietly as she can while looking down either side of the dark corridor. The bathroom had been empty when she glanced inside earlier, but she checks it again. Just to make sure. And yes, there's no sound coming from within. Pushing open the door reveals the same dark and empty room she had seen not even a minute ago.

So where is Mrs Fraiser? Niala's heart beats harshly, until it's the only thing she can hear. How terrible would it be, if her beloved teacher wasn't even home tonight? Was gone for the entire weekend?

She has to force herself to walk slowly, to keep her steps light as she checks the next door down the corridor. She listens at the door first, for any whisper of movement inside, but it's dead quiet like the rest of the house, and pushing it open reveals yet more darkness in an unoccupied room. She does the same for each door until she loops back to the door closest to the staircase. This is the last room before she'll have to expand her search downstairs.

She pushes the door open slowly, daring to hope, and breathes a quiet sigh of relief and joy when her eyes land on a still form curled up under sheets on a twin sized bed.

When she steps into the dark room, the rhythm of her pulse changes from worry to excitement. Mrs Fraiser is alone in this room. It will really and truly just be her and Niala tonight. She won't have to worry about keeping Mr Fraiser asleep, won't have his presence there forcing her to keep herself aware and not get lost too much in the pleasure.

There's no bedside lamp in the room, so Niala locks the door behind her and undresses quickly, before taking a readying breath and flicking the light switch on the wall by the door. The sudden brightness has her wincing even as she takes long strides across the floor, on the balls of her feet to keep her steps quick and quiet. There's no carpet in this room to helpfully muffle her steps.

Mrs Fraiser groans in her sleep, head turning towards the far wall and away from the light. The sheets move with her shifting hips as her body starts to turn towards the centre of the bed. Then Niala is there, Talent switched on as she presses her fingers to her teacher's exposed cheek. Mrs Fraiser's body settles down near instantly and Niala releases a shaky breath.

“Hi, Mrs Fraiser,” she whispers. “It's me again.”

She slides her fingers down the older woman's cheek, examining her sleeping face, before brushing a thumb over her partially open lips.

“You might be pregnant already, with how much of my cum you've taken. But it's good to make sure, right?”

She gently turns her teacher's face towards her, so if her eyes were open she'd be looking right at Niala's half extended dick.

Things had gotten away from her yesterday. She had come to Mrs Fraiser pent up and overly anxious, impatient after being denied all day. Stuck in Mrs Fraiser's panties and unwilling to masturbate at school. But she's better tonight. She had slept in late, had satisfied her craving and brought herself to orgasm in a different pair of the older woman's underwear. She's fully in control of herself and determined to give the sleeping woman as many orgasms as she can wring out of her, to make up for yesterday.

And now Mrs Fraiser is in bed alone. It's as if she knew Niala was coming and wanted to give her more leeway to do whatever she wants. Tonight is going to be really special, Niala thinks. Not that every night she gets to spend with her favourite teacher isn't special, but tonight will be even more so, because it's just the two of them.

Niala runs her fingers down the older woman's neck, admiring the smooth brown skin. Her other hand rises, thumb pushing into Mrs Fraiser's mouth.

Her dick hardens further as she moves her thumb between her teacher's lips.

“Tonight's going to be all about you, Mrs Fraiser. I promise.” Her eyes slide down to her other hand as she lifts the sheet from her teacher's body. She's in a camisole again tonight. In the bright light Niala can see how her teacher's large breasts pull the material upwards, exposing her stomach and the dip of her navel. Her nipples are clearly outlined by the partially see-through material. Her underwear tonight is more plain, but the white cotton feels almost innocent. Like an offering.

She drinks in the sight as she wraps her hand around her dick. Mrs Fraiser's large breasts clearly want to be free of the thin camisole, the strained material leaving nothing to the imagination with the deep neckline and how tightly it hugs her chest. Niala hums as she strokes herself. Setting a slow, even pace that matches the movement of the thumb she still has in Mrs Fraiser's mouth.

“Just,” her thoughts abruptly cut off as the older woman gently sucks on the thumb in her mouth. A low hum rises from her teacher's throat like a purr. Niala's dick twitches in her hand, rock hard and needy. She takes a deep breath, reminds herself of the mood she wants to set, and breathes out slowly. “Just let me have this one thing first. It's just us tonight, and I've wanted this for so long… so please just-”

She removes her hands from her dick and Mrs Fraiser's mouth, making sure to keep at least one hand on her teacher at all times as she starts pulling the older woman's upper half closer to the edge of the bed. It takes a surprising amount of effort to pull her over the smooth sheets, but eventually Mrs Fraiser's head is right where she wants it, at the very edge. After a brief moment of indecisiveness, she reaches one hand down the open neck of the camisole to pull her teacher's heavy breasts up out of the material. Their bulk forces them to press together, areolas almost touching. Looking at Mrs Fraiser like this, with her appearance so… indecent, has her heart fluttering in her chest.

Niala starts off slow, painting her sleeping teacher's lips with her precum until they glisten in the light. Mrs Fraiser's lips are soft against the tip of her dick, and even with how lightly Niala presses, the touch to her slit sends frequent jolts down her spine.

Mrs Fraiser's mouth opens up for her before Niala even has a chance to grip her teacher's chin and open them herself, like the last time she had done this. The last time… Niala shivers with the memory. It had been dark then, she had seen mostly the contours of the older woman's features, the impression of her face overlayed with Niala's memory of her teacher in daylight. Now there's no gaps to fill in; she can see every detail as full lips open around the head of her dick. Mrs Fraiser's breaths brush over her shaft as Niala slowly pushes in. There's no resistance at all, just a sleepy hum that sends vibrations up her shaft and a curious tongue pressing along the underside. Niala watches her teacher's cheek extend outwards as her dick pushes against it, and shivers.

It will never stop being amazing to her, the realisation that she's doing this; that her dick is in Mrs Fraiser's mouth. That there's nothing stopping her as she starts to work her hips back and forth. She runs a hand along Mrs Fraiser's jaw, cards fingers through her hair. Then she pulls her head even closer, using the fingers under her chin to tilt her head so it's easier to push more of her shaft into that hot mouth. Mrs Fraiser's lips move against the skin of her dick, her tongue presses against the shaft in her mouth almost curiously. She sucks on Niala's dick like a pacifier as her student pulls back her hips. Then hums around the swollen head.

Niala can barely even think, every thought lost in the haze of pleasure that is her dick and her teacher's mouth. She holds Mrs Fraiser's head steady as she pushes back inside. Then pushes in further, until she hits the back of her teacher's throat. And that almost sets her off. But she's still mostly in control of herself, and she breathes out slowly with a low groan as she pushes even further and breaches her teacher's throat.

There's a brief moment where Mrs Fraiser gags, not at all ready for the intrusion without a conscious mind to prepare for it, but she stays sleeping under Niala's Talent, and stays relaxed, and that keeps her breathing through her nose as the head of Niala's dick squeezes into her throat.

Niala's dick throbs in the tight space. Her teacher swallows reflexively, multiple times in a row and Niala shakes and releases a high pitched whine. It feels impossibly good. Fuck. Mrs Fraiser is sucking on her cock. She's taking Niala down her throat without protest, just as Niala knew she would.

When she bottoms out, she immediately pulls out again, barely registering her teacher's lips around the base of her dick before she does. Then she pushes back in, taking it slow so Mrs Fraiser's subconscious can get used to it, before slowly increasing her pace. She keeps her eyes glued to Mrs Fraiser's beautiful face and glistening lips wrapped wonderfully around her cock. Tries her best to commit the sight to memory. She's fucking her teacher's throat and it feels like she's about to ascend to heaven. Every nerve in her body is connected to her dick, feels heightened in anticipation for the tingle she feels each time her teacher's throat closes around the head of her cock.

She feels ready to blow her load at any moment, but holds herself back to draw it out for longer. Who knows when she'll get this opportunity again. She almost wants it to never end.

She's not sure how long she thrusts her hips into her teacher's face, but it feels like a blissful eternity where nothing exists but her dick and the lips and tongue and throat around it. Her dick is throbbing in pleasurable protest when she finally tips over that edge. And she pushes as deep into that hot throat as she can, cradling Mrs Fraiser's face to her crotch, as the pressure in her dick erupts. Mrs Fraiser swallows as Niala comes, drinking from her dick like it's the natural thing for her to do.

God, Mrs Fraiser really is such a fucking slut, but no- no. Niala promised she'd be nice tonight.

But she really is, to suck on her dick so eagerly while sleeping, swallowing her cum without even a hint of difficulty.

Niala allows herself to relax in the moment, releasing a low, appreciative moan as her dick releases in short bursts and Mrs Fraiser continues to swallow every drop. She takes in the sight. The pursed mouth, lips swollen and shiny with spit and Niala's precum. Mrs Fraiser's wonderful boobs, squeezed together as they spill out of her camisole. She tweaks an exposed nipple, playing with it with her fingers until it starts to extend and grow hard. Then she playfully slaps the breast it belongs to, watching the flesh ripple before bouncing back.

Some selfish part of herself tells her to stay right where she is. She shouldn't. She should be working towards Mrs Fraiser's first orgasm, but she's so comfortable.

She stays. Just for a little while. Enjoys the feel of her teacher breathing around her dick, and the occasional sleepy suckle. She needs a small recovery period anyway. And Mrs Fraiser's breasts are right there, within easy reach, so she's not neglecting her teacher completely.

Niala doesn't pull out of Mrs Fraiser's mouth until her dick is rock hard again and leaking precum onto her teacher's tongue. She groans as she pulls her hips back, tense with the effort required to keep from starting a second round against her teacher's face.

She doesn't waste anymore time, quickly settling on top of her beloved teacher. She suddenly knows exactly what she wants tonight, and she's sure Mrs Fraiser will like it too. And it's all still setup for the real finale. That's what Niala tells herself as she sets herself between her teacher's legs and lifts them up into the air. This is all just setup for the thing Mrs Fraiser will enjoy the most. It's not really her being selfish if her teacher will enjoy this too.

She rests the back of Mrs Fraiser's calves on each shoulder and leans forward until her teacher's ass is slightly elevated from the bed. Then she pulls her underwear over the curve of her round cheeks, not removing them entirely, just pulling them down far enough so she can slip her cock under the material and against Mrs Fraiser's pussy. Her shaft is long enough that the swollen and glistening head of her dick peaks over the other side of Mrs Fraiser's panties.

The stiff and spit shined rod of her shaft rests on the patch of her teacher's pubic hair. With Mrs Fraiser's legs braced steadily on her shoulders, Niala reaches down to part the slightly wet lips of her teacher's pussy so her dick can settle between them like a hotdog.

Distantly, Niala wonders if she isn't taking this too far. What she's about to do will really leave a mess, if she isn't careful, but she wants to do this. Porn had made her curious. Golden haired bimbos with cum tracks over their chests and covering their faces had seemed weird at best and gross at worst. But what if it wasn't some manufactured sex worker, but Mrs Fraiser? She'd thought about it weeks ago, fantasising a vague biology lesson with Mrs Fraiser cheerful and lovely on her knees and working Niala's dick between her bra covered breasts, cum caught in her hair and dripping from her chin. The image hadn't been as gross as she thought it would be, though she still isn't all that interested in cumming so much on Mrs Fraiser's beautiful face that it looks like she's wearing a mask.

It's all well and good anyway, because she can't aim for Mrs Fraiser's face at all tonight. Can't risk getting cum in her teacher's hair or on the pillow under her head. But on her stomach? Her breasts? It's not the image of it in her head that has her shuddering as she reaches out to move the camisole out of the way, tucking Mrs Fraiser's breasts back through the neckline before pulling it upwards. It's the thought of doing it. Of spraying her teacher's sleeping and unaware body with her seed. The act, not what comes after.

She folds the older woman nearly in half, the underside of her dick pressing between the lips of Mrs Fraiser's cunt as she struggles to pull the light fabric up from under her teacher's body. She's sweating by the time she works the camisole over her teacher's head and down her arms, but it's done.

It's only after that she realises the absolute stupidity of what she just did. Mrs Fraiser's legs are still braced on her shoulders. She just forced her teacher's body into a stretch it might not be used to, and kept her in that position for who knows how many minutes. If she wakes up sore and aching in the morning and questions why, that could be the first domino to fall in her realising that someone is fucking her in her sleep. And then Niala would have to stop. Would have to bottle all her feelings back inside and part ways knowing that she fucked up. She needs to be more careful.

Still…

“You're beautiful, Mrs. Fraiser,” Niala whispers as she leans back on her heels. Her dick is screaming for attention, for movement, but she sits in the moment and allows her eyes to take in the sight before her.

Mrs Fraiser's caramel skin is smooth and soft. Her large breasts sit heavy on her chest, drawn apart by gravity into wide discs topped with dark nipples. There's a trail of drool along Mrs Fraiser's cheek and jaw from the deepthroating, and a smear of white on her upper lip. Her teacher breathes deeply in her sleep, dark hair a messy halo around her head as the mounds on her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

The flat plane of her stomach is soft under Niala's fingers, the meat of her calves a steady weight on her shoulders.

She only gets to be here because of her dogshit powers. They're useless and outshined in every context but this. How different would it be, if she could also put someone to sleep, instead of just keeping them there? Would she have even thought to do this at all or would she have stayed focused on possible future careers?

Niala lets loose a shaky exhale as she shifts to hold the older woman by her ankles, closing plush thighs around her aching member.

She's going to do this. She’s going cum all over Mrs Fraiser's body. This wasn't the plan for today, but the opportunity is too good to pass by. More than that, she wants to see it, to experience it. She wants to know what it's like to look down at Mrs Fraiser and marr that forbidden body with her cum.

Fucking Mrs Fraiser's thighs isn't all that great, at first. The friction drags against dry skin, only the underside of her dick growing increasingly slick as her teacher's cunt grows wet from the passes over her clit. It doesn't become good until Niala reaches a hand down to gather her teacher's arousal on her fingers and pumps her dick a few times to coat it. That's when she starts to get into it. She holds her teacher's ankles high in the air with one hand, and with the other, plays with the panties around her teacher's thighs; rubbing them against the exposed part of her dick, pulling at them and running her fingers along the seat. At one point she tugs the front of them down until it just stretches over the leaking tip of her shaft, and thrusts into it until a small wet dot bleeds through and stands out against the white material.

She's panting freely in the room, hips rocking back and forth, pushing against her teacher's raised ass with each thrust so that her breasts jiggle with each hit. Mrs Fraiser is panting too; little huffs accompany every impact like Niala is fucking the breath out of her body. Niala can tell she likes this too, because the underside of her dick grows increasingly slippery with time, and taking a moment to spread her teacher's legs wide and look shows how the arousal has mixed into her pubic hair and pasted some of it flat, and how her inner thighs shine with a thin coat of her slick.

The room is quiet, save for their breathing, the occasional moan, the shifting of sheets and the soft sounds of their skin meeting. The absence of Mr Fraiser's deep snores drives home that it's just her and Mrs Fraiser in this moment. She is finally, truly alone with her teacher, and there's no one in the way to keep her from showering Mrs Fraiser with adoration.

Niala's hips move faster as she feels her orgasm creeping closer. Anticipation builds in her gut as the moment closes in. It's real. She's doing this. She watches the bouncing movement of her teacher's breasts as she slams her hips into the back of her thighs harder and harder. Then, just as she feels herself tipping over that edge, she holds Mrs Fraiser's legs open in a wide V, giving herself an unrestricted view of the swollen head of her dick thrusting in and out from Mrs Fraiser's suspended underwear.

Niala grunts as her cum shoots out in a low arc, painting a crooked line that crosses her teacher's navel and terminates on the underside of one breast. The second burst arcs higher as her hips jerk forward, tracing an angled line that nearly touches a nipple before the line breaks, and starts up again across her upper abdomen.

She can't help herself. She drops Mrs Fraiser's legs and presses down on her dick through her teacher's panties as she continues to rut against her teacher's wet pussy.

This is one of the hottest things she's ever done. In her euphoric state, she pulls back her hips to cover the tip of her dick with Mrs Fraiser's panties. She can feel it through the material as she releases inside of them.

The “fuck…” she groans out is low and wavering. She's cumming in Mrs Fraiser's panties while the woman in question is wearing them. The acknowledgement pushes another burst of cum from her trembling dick. She can feel the slick result as she holds the fabric to her still thrusting shaft. She keeps it there until her orgasm tapers off, and hangs bent over her teacher as she catches her breath.

When she shuffles back on the bed her dick is sticky with both of their fluids. She rests one hand against her teacher's thigh and presses back down on her underwear. It's soaked through as she rubs it into her teacher's cunt, ignoring how her dick twitches weakly against her own leg.

“You like that?” She asks the sleeping woman. She can feel Mrs Fraiser's clit through the cloth and uses her thumb to rub it through the wet fabric. Before long, her teacher's thigh trembles under Niala's hand and her hips shift with clear arousal.

“Of course you do,” Niala trails off.

When Mrs Fraiser is pushing into her circling thumb, she pulls her hand away, giggling at how her teacher's hips follow after her. Then she pulls the underwear down the older woman's thighs, marvelling at how reluctantly the fabric peels away.

God, she's being such an idiot right now. Breaking so many of the rules she had come up with when she first decided to pay Mrs Fraiser a visit three nights ago. This was supposed to last just one night. She wasn't supposed to do anything with Mrs Fraiser's mouth besides maybe kissing it. She was supposed to be gentle and loving and tender. This entire obsession with her teacher's underwear wasn't in the scope of her plans.

Niala has allowed her selfish desires to drive her to making risky decisions. And she can barely bring herself to care.

She runs her fingers along Mrs Fraiser's skin as she draws her ruined panties down her legs. Bending over to lick clean any accidental smears and blindly tossing the cum stained garment to the floor. She'll retrieve it later. Then she kisses a path back up those long legs to the slick patch of curls between her thighs.

She's a bit tired, but also the most clear-headed she's been all night. And now is the time to give Mrs Fraiser the attention she promised, while her stamina recovers.

It's a bit different from previous nights. The taste of her own cum is prominent and familiar, mixed with Mrs Fraiser's arousal, but when she licks a path between her lips to press her tongue into her teacher's entrance, the flavour is wholly Mrs Fraiser's. Untainted. Niala has always cum at least once in Mrs Fraiser's wonderful pussy before going down on her teacher. This is the first night where she hasn't, and she's treated to something she hadn't even realised she wanted.

Niala pulls back slightly, licking her lips and regretting it instantly when she encounters the bitter taste of her own spend. She takes a breath, uses the fingers of her right hand to hold open Mrs Fraiser's lower lips, and then digs right back in.

It's not long before the older woman's legs start to shake again, dragging restlessly along the sheets to either side of Niala's prone body. She's breathing heavier, her exhalations tinted with the hint of low, breathy moans as Niala lovingly pinches and rubs her clit. When thighs close around her head and a rush of sweet liquid meets her tongue, Niala drags a broad lick up to Mrs Fraiser's clit. Sucking it lightly as she shifts just enough to move her hand to where she can push two fingers into her teacher's convulsing entrance. It's tight at first, due to clamped down muscles but then Mrs Fraiser's pussy pushes up against the invading digits, all but sucking them into her wet heat.

Down between her own legs, Niala's dick twitches to attention lazily, slowly waking up against the firm mattress.

Niala hums approvingly around the swollen bud in her mouth, spreading the fingers inside Mrs Fraiser with scissoring motions. She rides the motions of her teacher's hips, ignoring her growing erection to lap lightly at the sensitive nub. Even with Mrs Fraiser's thighs clamped around her ears she can hear the sleepy appreciative moans her teacher gives. The subtle gasp when she curls her fingers sends blood rushing straight to her dick.

When she runs her free hand up her teacher's body her fingers cut a path through one of the trails of cum she left. It's still on her fingers as she reaches for a heavy breast and tweaks a stiff nipple between her index and middle fingers. It makes the rough skin slippery to the the touch. She's made a mess of the older woman, and still she moans so prettily, her body begging for more, unable to keep still as her hot cunt holds onto Niala's fingers greedily.

Her dick starts to throb almost painfully, overworked and yet needy, but this is Mrs Fraiser's time. She's earned this moment, and Niala has no intention of ending it early. She's been selfish this whole night. She can wait for her turn to come around again.

Mrs Fraiser's second orgasm comes with a high arc of her hips that forces Niala's nose into the nest of her pubic hair. Niala nuzzles in and works her through it with light flicks of her tongue, doing what she can to rub the older woman's inner walls through the constricting muscles. Forcing another finger inside the tight space. Mrs Fraiser rewards her for it, keening beautifully as her entire body shudders. When it grows to be too much her hips instinctively pull back, but Niala doesn't allow her retreat, chasing her lovely pussy with light kisses and starting the process of thrusting her fingers all over again.

Her teacher's body turns in an attempt to get away, and Niala releases her breast to press down on her stomach and hold her steady. She can draw out at least one more orgasm. She's sure of it.

And she's right.

Mrs Fraiser lets out the loveliest sound Niala has ever heard from her lips, a high pitched cry, not loud, but with a depth of feeling that has Niala shaking as her teacher's heels dig into the mattress, knees spreading open as her hips rise off the bed. Something splashes against Niala's chin and runs down her fingers to the rest of her hand. It takes her a moment to realise what's happening and she panics with the need to keep it from wetting the sheets before she realises the worst of it is already over.

Mrs Fraiser's vaginal walls grip her fingers in a vice as she moans beautifully, body undulating in the midst of the powerful orgasm Niala has gifted her. She just squirted. She squirted on Niala. Because of Niala. That's how well Niala just fucked her.

Niala's hand is wet. She can feel her chin dripping and lifts her head to rest it a bit above Mrs Fraiser's clit, where it won't drip onto the sheets. Her hand is another story. She doesn't want to move it; wants to keep her fingers nestled deep inside her teacher's pussy to keep her orgasm going as long as possible. Pulling out now would be a crime. So her hand stays where it is, fingers occasionally curling slightly to rub her teacher's inner walls and tease her into cute little aftershocks.

When she finally pulls her fingers free, Niala's dick is screaming at her, desperate for attention. Without the immediate distraction of eating out Mrs Fraiser, there's nothing to pull her attention from how her blood pulses heavily in her cock. It actually hurts how turned on she is. Even just shifting against the sheets feels like a highly confusing mix of too much and not nearly enough.

“Fuck,” she groans, pressing her forehead to her teacher's stomach. Then louder, because she can, with a drawn out rasp that grates in her throat. “Fuck.”

She rises to her knees, shaky with need as she shuffles into position. There's a damp spot on the sheets from Mrs Fraiser's brief squirting, no bigger than Niala's fist. Hopefully it will dry before she wakes up.

She's done this often enough now that she's used to moving Mrs Fraiser's legs into the best position, spreading her open with her legs braced over Niala's thighs. Her teacher is likely still too sensitive from her recent string of orgasms, so Niala doesn't tease, keeping well away from the glistening and swollen clit as she wraps fingers loosely around her dick to press it into her teacher's entrance. Her dick jumps in her hand even at the light touch, painfully erect and already leaking.

Pushing into Mrs Fraiser's pussy feels like coming home at last. Her teacher is so wet that she parts easily around Niala's girth, her walls slippery with slick, perfect and all-encompassing. Niala starts to work her hips back and forth, and yes, this is still the best part of the night. She releases a low moan, the wet sucking sounds of Mrs Fraiser's needy cunt music to her ears, letting her know she's done everything right tonight.

She licks her lips as she looks down at her teacher. Her stomach is covered in streaks of Niala's cum, reaching all the way up to her heavy breasts. The white stands out against her brown skin. Here she is. Covered in Niala's cum inside and out. Marked by her. She looks beautiful in Niala's jizz, and it's in this moment that Niala gets the appeal of all those videos she watched. It's like jewellery, but even more personal. Tasteful in moderation, like how it is now, almost delicate against Mrs Fraiser's skin, and unapologetically hers.

Niala's panting breaths fill the room once more, adding to the sounds of their sexes meeting. Mrs Fraiser occasionally joins in with a sleepy moan, cum smears on her breasts as she arches into Niala's thrusting hips.

“Your pussy is the fucking best,” Niala groans. It really is.

Her dick feels oversensitive and raw. She's pushing herself to the limit tonight with how many times she's ejaculated. But Mrs Fraiser's warm pussy helps soothe the ache, finally around her dick where it belongs.

The older woman's bouncing breasts make for a wonderful view as Niala pushes her teacher's legs wider and leans back to force her hips further forward. Like this, it's easy to see how her dick slides in and out of Mrs Fraiser's cunt, forward and back with no resistance whatsoever. She wants to open her mouth and call Mrs Fraiser a slut again, tell her how much she wishes could fuck her out in the open - in her classroom with the sunlight pouring in while she begs like the needy cunt she is, but she had promised to be nice to her teacher. And she's already broken so many promises tonight. She'll keep this one at least. So she bites her lip, braces herself on her arms as she leans back, and tries to angle her hips into each thrust. She'll save those words for someone who really deserves it.

Mrs Fraiser's mouth hangs open, her breathing short huffs and interspersed moans as her hips push into Niala's, meeting her sluggishly as her body starts chasing the high Niala brings. Her nipples are little towers on the mountains of her chest, one gleaming in the light with Niala's cum. Her lips are still shiny where Niala marked them, the spot of cum on her upper lip dry and cracked. She looks like she's been properly fucked. Like she's being properly fucked. Like her body loves it.

Her pussy flutters around Niala's dick. Fuck. Mrs Fraiser's wet pussy closes around her, trying to drag her deeper, to keep her inside.

“Tomorrow,” Niala groans. Her fingers dig into her teacher's hips. Guides their motion to match hers perfectly. “Every single drop of my cum is going right here.” It's a promise. Maybe she'll actually keep it.

She can feel the mess they're making on her thighs and that encourages her to thrust even harder. Not stopping even as Mrs Fraiser lets out a beautifully moaned whimper and slick walls clamp down around her shaft. She tilts her head back, closing her eyes, and forcefully pumps her dick in and out of her teacher's orgasming pussy.

She swears she can feel where every bit of muscle presses into her dick. Her balls pull up. And it hurts how turned on she is. How close she is to cumming again. She's cum too many times tonight. It's with painful relief that she cums once more.

She can feel tears in the corner of her eyes at how good it feels, even through the pain. Her dick twitches sporadically inside her teacher's grasping pussy. It's still twitching as she pulls out. Cum lazily dribbling from her tip, which she rubs into Mrs Fraiser's folds.

When her racing pulse starts to calm she's hit with a wave of exhaustion so powerful she nearly tips over onto the bed.

Mrs Fraiser is a mess. There's cum leaking out of her pussy, caught in her pubic hair, on her stomach and her breasts. Niala wishes she could leave her like this. She’s honestly tempted to just grab a new pair of panties and walk away. Not just because of how weak and tired she feels.

But that would be a supremely stupid thing to do. And she's made more than enough stupid decisions tonight.

She reaches down to stop a drop of cum trailing from Mrs Fraiser's well fucked cunt from dripping onto the sheets. Wiping it on her teacher's engorged clit and giggling weakly at how Mrs Fraiser's legs tremble at the touch, her thigh vibrating against Niala's bent knee. She's just as tired and overworked as Niala is right now.

Maybe she should take a break tomorrow instead. Give them both time to recover. It's something to think about.

Niala sighs and slaps her cheeks to try and smack herself into being more awake. She can't leave yet. And she can't afford to fall asleep. She has to stay right where she is until Mrs Fraiser's body calms down enough that she won't wake in discomfort as soon as Niala gets up. Then she has to clean up the mess she made and figure out what to do with the panties she filled with her cum. Hopefully Mrs Fraiser has a similar enough pair in her drawers that Niala can dress her in.

Niala sighs again, this time with regret. Mrs Fraiser really does look perfect like this. She's not looking forward to leaving.

Chapter Text

This is an opportunity. That's what Niala realises.

It's the early hours of the morning, still dark and far from dawn. There's only one other passenger on the bus, fast asleep near the back. She looks to be in her mid twenties, maybe. Blonde hair tucked away under her hoodie, with delicate eyelashes highlighted by slightly smudged eyeliner.

This is an opportunity.

Despite the numerous empty seats available, Niala chooses to sit right next to the sleeping blonde. She casually looks around the roof of the bus as she thinks.

She doesn't have much time to decide on what she's going to do. In the middle of the night, the bus will barely make any stops, and a half an hour ride during the day can be done in as few as ten minutes. Her first concern should be cameras. Buses have them, right? She thinks they do. It takes her a few seconds to spot the first one. The second is behind her. Hopefully there aren't more that are hidden.

Okay. So she found the cameras. She knows where they are. If she's careful, she thinks she can avoid having them see…

Is she going to do this? This isn't Mrs Fraiser. She feels nothing for this random stranger on the bus. Yes, she has a pretty face, but is that really enough to justify this?

Niala knows she isn't the best person, what she does with Mrs Fraiser comes from a place of love… but it's still wrong. She knows that. Mrs Fraiser is different, special, worth everything and more. Even now just thinking of her teacher… Niala's heartbeat pounds out a love letter, there's a fluttery feeling inside of her chest.

She feels none of that for this stranger. She doesn't care about what she looks like when she smiles, or what she sounds like when she says Niala's name. She doesn't need to have her, to touch her, to make love to her.

But she can.

That's what keeps Niala in her seat. She doesn't have to or need to, but the opportunity is here and there's nothing stopping her. Nothing but herself.

There's not much time to think this through. Having sex with a sleeping Mrs Fraiser is different from assaulting someone on the bus. She doesn't have to be that person. She doesn't want to be a bad guy, a villain that only uses their powers selfishly. She's going to be a doctor. If she does this now, will she then assault her patients? No. She has self control, she has rules for herself. Her patients will be under her care, but this woman isn't.

Niala can sit beside her the entire ride and keep her hands to herself. But she doesn't have to, and she doesn't want to, she realises. That's what decides it.

It's not like anyone will ever know, anyway. So Niala isn't doing any harm. And she won't do too much.

That's what Niala tells herself as she switches on her Talent and holds the young woman's hand. It's not quite soft in her own, the skin a texture that speaks of hard work, and it's a bit cool to the touch. The blonde, of course, doesn’t stir. Niala feels her Talent settle in; that non-physical lock that tells her that it's actively working on someone turns into place. She's mindful of how she might look on camera, and so keeps her head pointed forward and shoulders steady as she pulls the blonde's hand over onto her bare thigh. Her heart pounds at the contact. Fuck, she's actually doing this.

Her dick stirs in her shorts as she switches to using her left hand to cover the one on her thigh, freeing her right hand to reach under the girl's hoodie. She can feel the minimal time she has ticking away in her head, so she's quick about it. Pulling loose a button with a brief struggle and then working down a zipper. She leans forward and looks to her right, pretending to look past the woman next to her and out the window. But her eyes aim down as she pulls down smooth fabric to reveal neatly trimmed curls. She can't reveal much more than that, not without partially undressing the sleeping woman, so she turns back to the front of the bus.

It feels like a race against the clock. She pushes her hand into the woman's underwear. At the same time, she takes the hand she has pressed to her thigh and moves it over her crotch, guiding the limp fingers into rubbing her covered dick.

Fuck. She's enjoying this, can feel her lips stretching into a grin as she tries to keep her composure. The woman's head leans against the glass, eyes closed and face peaceful as Niala pinches her clit between two fingers. Niala's dick stirs under the guided motions of the woman's hand. If Niala tries for it, she could probably build herself to an orgasm before her stop, but that would just leave her with a mess in her pants as she walks the rest of the way home. Just this is enough for her. Just getting this beautiful stranger to massage her dick into an erection. She'll finish herself off when she's back home.

She uses the woman's hand to give herself a nice squeeze, letting out a quiet breath to stifle a moan as she moves the fingers of her other hand further into the sleeping beauty's underwear.

She has to remember the time. She needs to remember the cameras.

Niala takes a shallow breath as she slides her fingers between two soft pussy lips, feeling for an even softer center and shivering slightly when she finds it. Here she is, on a bus in the middle of the night with a stranger's hand feeling up her dick and her own hand down that stranger's panties, fingers mapping out her pussy as she sleeps.

A mechanical voice calls out stop after stop, letting her know how long she has left. It's not too much longer, unfortunately. Her stop is coming up soon. She rubs the woman's clit almost aggressively, smiling with unrestrained glee as it grows stiff under her fingers. Three stops left. Not much time. Not nearly enough. Her fingers slide between the woman's labia. She's only just starting to grow wet. The cramped space makes it hard to manoeuvre her fingers, and she still has to be mindful of the camera. But she forces it, and as the third stop before hers gets called, she manages to push a reaching finger into the woman's entrance.

Her dick is fully erect under the woman's hand at this point. She's done it. There's really no going back now. She doesn't want to go back.

Her wrist is bent awkwardly and there's barely any space for her hand to move inside the woman's pants. She can only fit the one finger right now. A lucky red light gives her a bit more time to move it around, to give her sleeping friend – and she is a friend now that they've shared this secret moment – a few experimental pumps, Revelling in the feel of warm flesh wrapped close around the digit. And then she has to stop.

With two stops to go, Niala reluctantly but quickly pulls her fingers from the woman's cunt, pulling up her zipper and struggling to button her pants with one hand. She gives her dick one last squeeze with the woman's hand, a parting goodbye.

She only just manages to pull the line in time for her stop. Shouting a quick thanks to the driver as she steps out into the night, hiding her erection under her long shirt.

She takes a deep breath as the bus pulls away. Her body feels like it's vibrating. Her dick is throbbing a complaint, telling her she should have used it instead of her fingers. But cameras had made that impossible.

She takes another breath of cool night air. Her fingers are still wet from that lady's pussy, still noticeably warm compared to the rest of her hand. She had taken the chance presented to her. It wasn't as sweet as fucking Mrs Fraiser, but it was exciting in its own way.

Maybe next time, there wouldn't be any cameras to hold her back.

Chapter Text

Niala can't sleep. The room is dark, the temperature is perfect and this is quite possibly the softest bed she has ever laid in. But she can't sleep.

The soft breathing next to her tells her that West isn't experiencing the same problem. The other girl had pretty much fallen asleep before her head hit the pillow. Dead to the world before Niala could even ask what side of the bed she wanted.

Niala can't even be mad. Grant's “last hurrah” party for their graduating class had been something else. It was up there as one of the best parties Niala has ever been to, and she's never been the biggest fan of high school parties so that was saying a lot.

There had been a lot to like: from the food to the music to the generally good mood everyone had been in. The booze hadn't been the cheap stuff usually available to crafty teens on a budget working off of favours – West could attest to that if she wasn't currently sleeping it off. Then there had been the eye candy. Whoever had pushed Jay-Lynne into the pool has her eternal gratitude as the arguably hottest girl in their graduating class spent the majority of the night walking around in a sports bra and borrowed short shorts, flat stomach and toned legs on full display. Niala had stared, and she hadn't been the only one.

Mostly though it had just been… fun. And if this was the last memory she ever had of some of her classmates then maybe she'd remember her time in high school positively.

Her friend snorted in her sleep and Niala let out a silent sigh before giving up on getting any rest. It clearly wasn't happening tonight.

There was just enough light to easily make out her shoes in the dark, and it didn't take long for her to slip them on and quietly pad out of the room to the hallway.

Grant had rented a lodge at the very edge of the local forest reservation for his party; the two story building far enough away from any other residence that even at their loudest there had been no one to call the cops and shut them down. There was still evidence of their celebration all over. The remnants of spilled drinks on walls and floors, items of furniture that were clearly out of place, random bottles and pieces of trash they had missed in their preliminary cleanup after the party had ended. Even with the head start they had given themselves and four of them helping Grant clean, tomorrow was going to be a long day. Which is why it sucks that Niala can't get her brain to shut off.

She can guess the reason why. Right about now, if she hadn't felt like she owed it to Grant to show her face tonight, she would probably be balls deep inside Mrs Fraiser. Her sleep schedule has been all sorts of fucked up since she started her nightly visits to her teacher's bed. And while she doesn't exactly regret choosing the party over another night with her favourite teacher, she knows what she missed out on by making that choice.

Walking the dark hallway serves as a stark reminder and she clenches her fists as she reminds herself that Mrs Fraiser isn't sleeping behind the next door.

She misses her. Misses her soft sighs and the way she shifts under Niala as she's penetrated. Misses the feel of her skin against Niala's thighs and the way she clenches around Niala's shaft as she orgasms.

Niala misses her classes at school too. There are no classes for seniors during graduation week, which is why everyone could attend Grant's party on a Tuesday night. No classes means she doesn't get to see Mrs Fraiser in the sun. And as beautiful as she is at night, Mrs Fraiser thrives in daylight. Niala's favourite fantasy still has her teacher between her legs with the cheap wooden desk pushed out of the way – mouth pretty and eager as she sucks-

Niala stops walking and runs a hand down her face. Her semi-hard dick presses uncomfortably in her underwear. The house is dead quiet as she stands there, night critters outside the lodge the only sound to fill the void.

Everyone else is sleeping. Dusty, Grant's best friend, had conked out on the couch downstairs while the rest of them took turns in the one bathroom that hadn't seen someone's puke. West had drunk so much she just straight up hadn't been safe to go home and probably wouldn't wake until the afternoon if left alone. Grant and Jem had taken the only other bedroom, and for a while, their soft murmurs through the wall had kept Niala company, until the couple had gone silent. So it's just Niala; her and her thoughts alone in the dark.

She hesitates, hyper aware of how little space there is in her tights, before allowing the fantasy to unfold in her mind. Mrs Fraiser's glasses are slightly skewed, hung low on the bridge of her nose. Her pristine eyeliner highlights the specks of green in her eyes as they look up at Niala. Her lipstick is smudged, one prominent smear stretching upwards from the right corner of her lips. Matching pink stains are littered along the stiff shaft she holds in her hand. She's wearing the blouse that clings around the curve of her large breasts, half the buttons undone so that when Niala's gaze drifts down she has a clear view of her cleavage and the hint of a dark brown nipple from her teacher's lack of a bra.

Niala, her teacher says as her thumb rubs the underside of her hard shaft, you've been so good. And thoroughly enraptured, Niala shivers as she imagines those soft, decadent lips taking in the head of her dick and sucking.

Niala turns around to head to the bathroom, her erection throbbing between her legs. If she can't sleep, she might as well enjoy her bout of insomnia, and this lodge has one of those fancy walk-in rainfall showers with plenty of room for her to jerk off in comfort. She has her hand on the door handle and is pushing the door to the bathroom open when she glances down the hallway and notices that the door to the room that Grant and Jem are in is slightly ajar.

She has a terrible idea.

There are a number of thoughts that go through Niala's head in quick succession. She was only supposed to use her power this way with Mrs Fraiser. To share something special with the older woman, to express her feelings, to leave something of herself behind – a baby, hopefully; a piece of herself and her teacher combined. It feels almost unfaithful to sleep with anyone else. But there was already that woman on the bus. And she and Mrs Fraiser aren't together. The older woman has a husband. And Niala is leaving in less than a week. There's no relationship to be had there.

Grant doesn't deserve this. They might not hang out on a near daily basis anymore like her and West, but he is her friend. Jem is hot though. Not Mrs Fraiser levels of hot. Definitely not Jay-Lynne levels. But she is pretty in her own way, with her long dark hair, sharp jawline and petite stature. And Niala would really just like a wet pussy to stick her dick into. She's so horny, and Jem is right there.

Niala lets go of the bathroom handle, her heartbeat accelerates with nerves as she kicks off her shoes to keep her steps quiet. Hopefully she doesn't step in anything. There's a thrum of excitement that settles low in her gut as she steps up to the unlocked door and eases it open further, closing it behind her as quietly as possible.

They forgot to turn off the standing lamp near the bed, and the soft light reveals articles of clothing scattered on the floor. Niala counts two shirts, a pair of khakis, a skirt, a bra. She frowns, worried her half-formed plan is already dead, not really into having Grant's sloppy seconds. But as she steps closer she can see that Grant still has his boxers on, his arm curled around Jem's slim waist, hand tucked under her exposed tits. Jem also still has her underwear on, a little black number that sits low on her hips. So they probably fondled each other a bit, but didn't go all the way. Good.

Fuck. She's actually committed to doing this. Sorry Grant. Sometimes friends share.

The relief she feels as she pulls down her tights and underwear and her dick springs up, tall, proud and free nearly causes her to audibly groan. And as she tugs her legs free and pulls her shirt over her head she considers how she wants to approach this. Grant and Jem are curled up together near the centre of the bed, Niala's target cradled as the little spoon against Grant's larger jock physique. There's a part of Niala that immediately wants to find its home between the other girl's legs, not caring all that much about the rest of her body since she isn't Mrs Fraiser. But that feels a bit mean. It's not Jem's fault that she isn't near perfect, and there's plenty there Niala can appreciate aesthetically.

She takes a deep breath, switches on her Talent and reaches down to rest her fingers on Grant's arm. Since it's tucked up under Jem's boobs it's easy to position her hand so that she's touching both of them at the same time, and she feels her Talent lock into place.

Her eyes freely roam Jem's body, taking in the beauty marks on her collar and left breast, her pink nipples, small peaks on top of medium sized breasts that sit firm on her chest even as she lies on her side. The dip of her navel, sat inches above her panty line. Then back up to her closed eyes and partly open lips.

She'll take the invitation those lips present, she thinks. And climbs onto the bed, careful of the placement of her knees. She has to lie on her side to get herself lined up, her knee keeping her in contact with Jem's stomach and her thigh brushing Grant's arm. Her dick pulses happily in her hand at the first brush against Jem's naked lips and Niala hums a pleased sigh as she pushes into the girl's mouth.

Curiously enough, Jem's mouth isn't as hot as Mrs Fraiser's. Maybe because she sleeps with her mouth open? The heat doesn't get trapped and cooler air from the room can flow in? It doesn't really matter. Grant's girlfriend has a fairly small mouth, so the stretch of her lips around Niala's thick shaft is something to admire. She can feel Jem's tongue along the underside of her dick, and the gentle movement of air as she breathes on the portion of Niala's shaft that's not in her mouth.

Niala props herself up on her elbow, letting go of her dick to grip the back of Jem's head and hold it in place. Then slowly starts to work her hips back and forth.

Whatever nerves she had disappears, her hesitation dissolves. Her dick is finally somewhere warm and wet and this wasn't a terrible idea at all. It was a great one.

Then Jem's eyes open.

Wait.

What?

Niala blinks down at seafoam blue eyes that blink back up at her.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

This isn't happening.

Her hand goes slack as Jem pulls away from her dick and the slick shaft springs upwards, still embarrassingly, distractingly hard.

Niala can't tell if she's panicking. It's like her body and mind have paused. Frozen into inaction because this can't be happening.

Jem smiles up at her. Jem… smiles?

“Heeeeey,” the other girl drawls, and… it doesn't sound quite right. What-

“You look… mmm.” Her eyes close, long enough that Niala starts to think she's fallen back asleep. That this was a false alarm. Then they blink back open again before looking up at her with hazy focus. “Poor ba…by.”

Her hand lifts to rest on Niala's hip, and she pulls herself up out of Grant's arms. Niala has to scramble to touch the top of his head, curling her fingers in the strands of his hair as Jem pushes her over onto her back and crawls up her lap.

“Shhh…” Jem presses a finger to her cheek, and Niala's terror morphs into disbelief as she realises what's happening. She thinks Jem was aiming to press her finger over her lips. “Mmm… help you. Help me,” she giggles.

Jem's fucking drunk. Oh gods. Niala isn't absolutely fucked. Thank god, Jesus, Allah – whoever the fuck is up there. The other girl is smashed to the gills. How the fuck is this happening.

A hand that isn't hers wraps around her still hard shaft and Niala shivers, bucking her hips when they squeeze down firmly, just shy of being painful. What the fuck.

Jem hadn't been asleep. That has to be it. She wasn't asleep and Niala had touched both her and Grant at the same time and just assumed that her Talent had settled into both of them without checking to make sure. Stupid.

How could she have been so fucking idiotic?

Jem kisses her neck, shifting further into her lap and pushing Niala's dick up against her stomach until she can replace her hand with her crotch. Finally where she apparently wants to be, she grinds down onto Niala's dick, and oh- oh fuck. Okay. Niala groans and Jem pauses her kisses to giggle against her jaw.

“So-oo-o needy.” She leans in to kiss Niala on the mouth. Misses and kisses her nose instead, then readjusts to find her target, pushing her tongue between Niala's lips.

Niala knows Jem – not very well, but well enough to know that whatever she thinks is happening right now, it's nowhere close to what's actually taking place. If Grant is the gold-hearted jock that everyone kind of likes, then Jem is his stick-up-her-ass other half that keeps to herself and tends to have a holier than thou attitude. She isn't an outright bitch, but she's not exactly open and welcoming either. If she knew it was Niala's dick she was grinding her pussy down onto instead of Grant's she would have been mortified.

Niala checks that her power is working on Grant, ignoring the girl's disappointed moans as she doesn't immediately respond to the kiss. He actually is asleep. Thank god. She opens her legs wider until her foot touches his thigh, freeing her hand to grip Jem's waist. Her other hand holds the back of Jem's head as she takes control of the kiss, feeling a jolt in her dick as Jem's grinding grows more enthusiastic.

Now that she knows what's happening it's impossible to ignore how turned on she is. Having Grant's girlfriend grinding on her lap like she's begging to be fucked while he's sleeping right next to them is a whole new experience. And if Jem had always been this kind of drunk then Niala somewhat regrets avoiding her over the years.

She slides her hand from Jem's hip down to her thigh, running her fingers over soft and smooth skin. The other girl hums a moan against her lips, pulling away to run her hands over Niala's breasts. Niala can feel how wet she is through her underwear, the other girl's juices coating the underside of her dick and making her long for direct contact. And well… Jem has been into this so far. Why not hurry this along?

She slides the hand on Jem's head down her back, enjoying the way she shivers as Niala's fingers brush over her spine, then grips her ass to encourage her to sit up on her knees a bit. She giggles again, mumbling something Niala can't be bothered to figure out, then leans in for another kiss that Niala reciprocates. They both moan as their tongues brush each other, and Niala uses the distraction to pull the seat of Jem's panties aside and push into her cunt, swallowing the other girl's surprised squeak as she does.

Fuck. Oh fuck. She's tighter than Mrs Fraiser. With her teacher, Niala only needs to guide her head into her entrance before she can push the rest of the way hands free. She can't do that with Jem. Her hand continues to hold her dick in place, fingers brushing against slick, smooth skin and Niala breathes heavier with the knowledge she is quite literally feeling up Jem's wet pussy. Her thumb slides through slippery folds, up to and across the bump of Jem's clit while her index finger explores in the other direction before she pulls them both back to grip her dick and continue pushing into Jem's pussy.

She swallows each of the other girl's moaned whimpers as she feels Jem stretch around her swollen head, digging her fingers into Jem's ass to encourage her to sink down on her throbbing shaft and meet Niala halfway. Jem's inner muscles press in around her dick, hot and wet and clearly not used to being spread open so wide. She's seen pictures of Grant's dick before; has an idea of how big it is from when they compared sizes a few years back. Grant is actually bigger than she is, if only slightly – more so if he kept growing since then, so Jem shouldn't be struggling here. Have they just not fucked yet? Is she taking Jem's virginity?

Her cock throbs in time with her pulse, balls pulled up as she struggles not to bust only inches in. And the sounds Jem is making. Her little whimpers and gasps follow Niala's rushing blood straight to her already struggling shaft. Pushing in is so slow it should count as a war crime. This isn't working. She shifts her hands to Jem's hips and grips her tight while sucking on her tongue, then forces her to lift up slightly before pulling her back down. That's the first cycle. On the second, more of her dick ends up nestled inside that slick heat, and Niala groans as she forcefully holds back her orgasm, her dick pulsing like a stronger second heartbeat despite not even being halfway in yet. It's all wet and heat and pressure and fuck does this girl have a great pussy. On the third Jem sinks down even further, hissing through her teeth before leaning in for another sloppy kiss and Niala attempts to distract herself from her pending orgasm by kissing the other girl senseless. By the fourth she doesn't need to guide the other girl as she bounces on her dick.

Jem's broken moans harmonise with the slight creaking of the bed. When she feels less at risk of suddenly unloading into Jem's hot pussy, Niala sits back to watch the tits bouncing in her face as Jem's inner slut breaks free. Niala's foot is still pressed up against Grant's leg, so she takes to murmuring backhanded praises to his whore of a girlfriend.

“That's right,” she whispers, mindful of her voice carrying through the walls. “That's a good little bitch. Dance on my cock like it's the best fucking thing you've ever had.”

Jem groans and shakes, and Niala bites her lip and doesn't cum as already tight muscles clench around her swollen member. Jem doesn't cum yet either, and soon enough she's back to aggressively bouncing on Niala's dick, rising high enough on her knees each time that Niala's dick nearly slips free and she has to hold it in place with one hand.

“You like that?” Niala pants. And Jem nods so fast it startles Niala into a laugh. “Like being my little slut?” Jem nods again, once, then drops her head to Niala's shoulder.

“I like your pussy too,” Niala chuckles, then groans when Jem clenches again. “Wanna fill it right up, so take it like a good little slut, okay?”

To Niala's surprise she feels Jem shake her head in a no against her shoulder.

“No?”

Jem shakes her head again and for a brief moment Niala is furious. What the fuck does she mean no?

“Ouus-” Jem pants, and her words sound even more slurred than they were when she woke up. “Outssside.”

Outside? Fuck no. Jem doesn't get to decide where Niala cums. Not when she wasn't even supposed to be awake in the first place.

“Okay,” she lies. And Jem rewards her by taking her full length deep into her pussy and grinding against her. She hooks her hands behind Niala's neck and swings her hips forward and back like she's giving a lapdance. Creating enough separation between their upper bodies for Niala to see every second of her hard shaft disappearing in and out of Jems pussy, leaving trails of translucent slick that drip down her balls and smears her thighs. The bunched up seat of Jem's panties is dark and shiny as it scrapes against the side of Niala's dick, cleaning up a portion of the mess on that side as the material soaks up Jem's arousal.

Sharp spikes of pleasure jerk Niala's hips forward into each grinding press. Like hell the other girl wants Niala to pull out when she's clearly trying to push her over the edge.

Niala returns her hands to Jem's hips, digging in with her fingers as she guides her into bouncing on her cock again. This time she doesn't leave Jem to do all the work, leaning back against the headrest to get the leverage she needs to thrust up as Jem is coming down. It's even better like this. She can hear the sound of their skin meeting, can see how coated her dick is everytime she pulls out of this bitch's cunt. Every movement between them sees thick trails of Jem's arousal stretching between them, her tight pussy clinging to Niala's dick like it never wants to see her go.

Niala is so close to her orgasm. Can feel the familiar overwhelming pressure at the base of her dick. But she wants Jem to go over that edge first. Wants to find out how tightly her pussy can clamp down over Niala's throbbing member. Jem's clit has gone neglected all this time, so Niala lets go of her hip with one hand to rub it with her thumb, grinning as Jem bites off a startled cry and hunches over, holding herself still.

Niala keeps slamming her hips upwards, groaning at the feel of Jem's inner muscles flexing. She can tell that the other girl is close, and she rolls her hips upwards into each thrust, her thumb slippery and insistent on her sensitive clit. Jem stiffens against her, hips still and muscles tense as Niala puts everything she's learned about angling her thrusts with Mrs Fraiser to the test in order to drive her closer and closer to the edge. The girl's breath hitches each time their hips meet, the force of Niala's thrusts lifting her up slightly with each impact. And the flexing of her cunt gets faster and tighter until Jem lets out a long moan and her legs close around Niala's hips. If she'd thought the other girl was tight before this was something else entirely, and Niala feels herself forcefully pulled into her own orgasm, her balls pulled up close under her dick as she releases one spurt after another into the clenching pussy of her friend's girlfriend.

Jem settles against her, letting out another of those cute little whimpers as her hands fall limply to her sides. Her head finds its way back to Niala's shoulder as she shudders through her orgasm, her nipples little points against Niala's own chest. And like the proper slut she is, she doesn't complain about Niala cumming inside her pussy. It takes a while for Niala to realise that's because she's fallen asleep.

Her Talent locks into place for the second time tonight, and Niala lightly pants as she marvels at the weird turn this night took. Her dick is still comfortably nestled inside of Jem's cunt. And as she rests and takes a breather she feels it beginning to stir awake again. Rapidly growing hard in the tight confines, swelling against Jem's inner walls.

She's still not quite ready to call it a night. And now Jem is actually asleep so she's free to do as she pleases.

She manages to switch places with the other girl with some difficulty, flipping her onto her back while making sure she stays in contact with both Grant and Jem so there aren't any more mistakes tonight. Her dick pulls free in the process, and she watches as Jem's panties, no longer being held aside, partially cover her glistening folds. The material is wet and sticky, both inside and out, folds in the fabric held together with a mix of both of their fluids. It's absolutely soaked through, the dark material a deeper black over Jem's center compared to the rest of it. White patches stand out as evidence of Niala's participation in the mess.

She can't leave Jem in these. No way. So she works them down her legs – giving her the first clear view of the other girl's pussy and the neatly shaved patch of curly hair above her slit – and yea, she has to find a way to clean these before anyone else wakes up, or hide them away to never be found. Jem was so drunk she'll probably just think she took them off with the rest of her clothes. Or maybe Niala can wash them out and throw them in the microwave to dry quickly? Would that even work? Maybe there's a dryer tucked away somewhere. It can't hurt to check.

Curious, she holds the limp fabric up to her nose and takes a sniff. Then another, longer inhale. It smells like the two of them; like the room saturated in sex, but even stronger. So strong that she can actually taste the smell, and it lingers on her tongue, heavy with a salty sweetness as she lowers it from her nose. She turns it around in her hand, finds a cleaner, dry section on the front and spreads it over her palm before wrapping it around her still wet shaft. It's already a mess, and if she's going to have to clean it anyway, then…

She looks down at Jem as she starts to rub her dick with the girl's underwear, perched over her thighs with a clear view of the other girl's slim body. She's dead asleep, head turned to the side and mouth open wide with a fresh line of drool at the corner. Niala hasn't really paid much attention to Jem's boobs, not as interested in them when they aren't big enough to bury her face in between. Yet her small nipples stand out on her chest anyway and they rapidly stiffen under Niala's thumb when she reaches over to tease them.

Niala chuckles, moving her hand more aggressively up and down her dick as she covers Jem's left breast with her free hand and squeezes. It's definitely firmer than Mrs Fraiser's, her fingers not sinking in as much, the nipple a sharp point of pressure in the middle of her palm. When she looks down at herself, she notices a bead of pre cum growing at the tip of her dick and drags the fabric further up to add it to all the other stains. As she does, the wet part of Jem's panties drag along the girl's inner thigh, leaving behind a shiny streak. Gods, she actually can't wait to ruin this underwear even more.

She runs her free hand down Jem's stomach to brush over her clit and drag a finger through the gooey mess of her cunt. When she pulls it away her finger is coated, and strings of the viscous, mostly translucent fluid stretch between her retreating finger and Jem's pussy. The girl leaks like a fountain and Niala wonders if it's because she's drunk or if Jem just normally gets this wet. She sticks the finger in her mouth and groans as she sucks it clean, squeezing down on the head of her dick with Jem's damp panties. She goes back for another taste and it's not long before her dick is throbbing in her hand.

She's so into the feel and the taste and the whole experience, passing over the full length of her shaft with every twisting stroke, that she's slow to cover the tip of her dick when her orgasm hits and a string of her cum arcs high in the air before landing in a broken line across Jem's lower stomach – leaving a trail of white dots and short lines below her navel and across the trimmed curls of her pubic area. Some of the stream hits Niala's fingers, squelching between the digits as she drags Jem's underwear into place and continues unloading into it. Moaning around the fingers still in her mouth as she does.

She can feel the growing gooey wetness pressing against the fabric, filling the small space available between it and her dick before escaping wherever it can manage to leak through. It soaks through the material of Jem's panties to coat her fingers and drips down Niala's still orgasming dick until she wipes it clean with another section of Jem's underwear. The knowledge that this is someone's panties that she's releasing into keeps her going for several long seconds, pulling more and more out of her eager dick before it finally runs dry.

After she's done she drops the soggy material onto Jem's stomach. It's so loaded with cum that it sort of just plops down when she lets it go, and the thick pool of cum held inside widens as it flattens out, no longer contained. Spreading over more of Jem's ruined panties and edging onto the skin of her stomach, some of it trailing to pool in the dip of her navel.

Niala leans back on her heels, panting as her dick softens and starts to sag. She can't help the smile on her face. This was so much better than just jerking off in the shower. Still not as good as sex with Mrs Fraiser but that has the advantage of Niala actually liking the older woman. There's a connection between them, something soft and special, whereas her feelings towards Jem are only indifferent at best.

Grant rolls onto his side to her left, the bed shifting and bouncing Niala slightly as he turns his back to them. He moves a bit further away as he does, forcing Niala to spread her knees wider so she can move her foot to keep in contact. He's still very much asleep.

She takes a moment to just breathe, not quite ready to be done just yet, even though she thinks she might be able to fall asleep now that she's gotten the restless energy out of her system. It's late in the night, or very early in the morning to be more accurate, but everyone had turned in no more than two hours ago. She has plenty of time before the others start waking up, and she's not ready to call it just yet. So she takes a break, gets comfy between Jems legs, pushing her legs wide so she has plenty of room to spread the lips of her cunt with her thumbs and look at everything Jem has to offer. She plays with the other girl's pussy and tits to pass the time until her stamina recovers, not really pleasuring her – just satisfying her curiosity and having some fun until she's once again rock hard.

And then she's forcing her way back into Jem's entrance, holding her knees up and out of the way in a shallow V as she uses the other girl's pussy for her own needs. It’s easier than the first time thanks to how much more wet she is, but still incredibly and wonderfully close around her dick.

Jem isn't Mrs Fraiser, so one orgasm for her is more than enough to show Niala's appreciation. But she gets a freebie as Niala is thrusting into her, likely having already been close from when Niala toyed with her while resting. Still, the rest of the night is all about Niala. She tilts her head back and closes her eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of the muscles squeezing her dick. Slippery with Niala's own cum while feeling both reluctant and eager to welcome her in. The bed creaks with every movement of her hips, and if anyone else is awake right now they probably think Grant and Jem are having the time of their lives.

Jem's cunt bubbles with excess arousal, more squeezing out around Niala's dick with each thrust, and she can hear it squelching every time she pushes in. Niala grits her teeth as she grips under Jem's knees, body tense and thrusts harsh until the pressure in her dick explodes outwards and she cums for the third time tonight with a stifled groan. Inside. Because fuck Jem for asking otherwise. Her dick twitches with her release, Jem so deep in alcohol induced slumber that she barely even responds to her pussy being used as a dumping ground for Niala's cum outside of a sleepy sigh.

Niala's chest heaves as she catches her breath. Her dick feels raw and sensitive as she pulls out of Jem's entrance, her balls wrung dry. Every twitch of her dick as it brushes Jem's thigh sends an aching shiver to the base of her spine. She can feel the cool film of sweat layered on her chest and arms as she forces deep breaths to calm her racing pulse.

One more. She has one more in her, after another short rest. Then she'll clean up and return to her room.

There's a part of her that's screaming to leave Jem like this, with red fingerprints on her hips and Niala's cum leaking out of her glossy pussy, dirty cum-filled panties like a planted flag marking her as someone's fucktoy, but she refuses to make any more mistakes. Tonight was almost a disaster. If Niala gets reported for sexual assault her life is over. It's the absolute worst scenario. She can't afford any more fuck ups; needs to keep her head on her shoulders and use the brain she's so damn proud of – the brain Mrs Fraiser praises her for having.

So one last round between Jem's legs, and then she'll make sure Jem and Grant remain none the wiser of what happened tonight.

Niala's breathing steadies. Graduation is the day after tomorrow and she leaves for TAsseT on Sunday. Time is running out. Tomorrow – well, later today – she goes back to the plan. No more distractions or deviations. She has four nights left with the best woman she'll ever meet. She has to make the most of it.

Chapter Text

Niala releases a slow exhale as she runs her tongue over roughly textured skin. Mrs Fraiser's nipple is a deceptively solid nub of flesh in her mouth. Easily shifted with every push of her tongue but resistant under the gentle press of her teeth. Niala circles the solid tower, the tip of her tongue passing over the ridges of her teacher's areola before she closes her lips around the base and sucks gently.

Her free hand slowly massages the older woman's other breast, thumb and fingers pressing deeply as she fondles it. Mrs Fraiser tastes faintly sweet and Niala can't help but wonder what it would be like if her teacher was swollen with milk from pregnancy.

Her dick is rock hard and throbbing between her legs. Fully erect and pressed up against her lower stomach, held close by her borrowed underwear. Her arm is wrapped around Mrs Fraiser's thigh, hand gripping her teacher's ass to tilt her hips upwards as Niala grinds down into her.

With the days ticking down to her departure, it feels like her lovemaking should be more frantic. More desperate. And yet tonight she feels almost serene.

It's heartbreaking to be aware that this time next week she'll be thousands of kilometres away. It sits in her heart like a big black ball of misery; dark and ugly. And yet the inevitability of it and her actions these past nights keep her from frenzied resentment. She needs Mrs Fraiser to be pregnant; needs the thing that will tie them together no matter the distance and ensure that Niala will always be more than just a faint memory. And there's contentment in doing everything she can to ensure that comes to pass. That's why they're having sex; this is the plan Niala has chosen to execute, and there's something reassuring in carrying it out.

Mrs Fraiser's pussy is warm even through the wet cotton, the heat of her bleeding through to embrace Niala's swollen member in spite of the barrier between them.

Niala groans as she presses up against her even harder.

It's just the two of them again; Mr Fraiser's loud snores faint but distinct through the locked door. The high waisted panties she's wearing are the very ones she took off her teacher tonight. Familiarity with her teacher's underwear drawer had made her recognise them as one of the pairs Mrs Fraiser had multiple copies of, and her adventures with Jem earlier that morning had given her the idea to do this. To swap her boyshorts for the panties on Mrs Fraiser's hips so she can cum inside them. A clean pair from the dresser is off to the side, waiting to be replaced onto her teacher's body once Niala is done.

Niala kisses around the circumference of Mrs Fraiser's large breasts, gently biting and sucking the skin as she goes, to tease at the hickey she knows she can't leave. Her other hand pinches and rolls Mrs Fraiser's other nipple. Her dick throbs with each grinding press up against her teacher's pussy. It wants more, she knows – direct contact with slick heat and the comforting press of familiar walls. Mrs Fraiser wants it too, her quiet pants and groans approving everything Niala is doing, her cunt begging to swallow her whole by making the front of her underwear increasingly wet – the heat beckoning Niala to press closer and push harder, to be inside instead of out.

Soon. She'll fuck Mrs Fraiser the way they both want soon. She just wants this first. She wants to cum in the panties her beloved teacher had gone to bed in. She wants to bask in the serenity that comes with being able to do this. So she kisses and licks her way up Mrs Fraiser's chest to her neck where she can feel the vibrations of her moans directly and imagines that her teacher's eyes are open and staring down at her, egging her on.

She swears she can feel the ghost of a hand running down her back, urging her to press down harder. She's close. So very close. Her dick thick and heavy with the anticipation of her orgasm. It pounds in a rapid beat between them, and Niala presses close to her teacher, feeling the swell of her breasts and the heat of her cunt as she digs her fingers into her teacher's ass.

“I'm cumming in your underwear,” she whispers into the older woman's jaw, before she actually does. And the flash of heat from saying the words out loud, coupled with another sleepy groan from her teacher's lips, pushes Niala over the edge.

She moans as she cums, seed shooting from her dick into the barrier of her teacher's underwear.

She was wearing these not even fifteen minutes ago, Niala thinks, and her balls pull up before forcing another long string of cum up her dick and into the elastic barrier keeping Mrs Fraiser's panties secured around her hips.

Maybe this is what Mrs Fraiser feels, when Niala unloads inside of her. This sudden rush of intense pressure that quickly forms running trails over every surface. Followed by another rushing stream that forces its way into a space that's already filled, pushing more of the hot goo down and away, or up and further in. Niala shivers, and before her mind can clear she's reaching into Mrs Fraiser's panties, pushing the front of them down and out of the way so she can wrap her fingers around her dick. She barely registers the sticky mess that gets on her hand, more leaking from the tip of her shaft and trailing down her stomach as she quickly pumps her dick to keep it from going entirely soft.

She reaches up to kiss Mrs Fraiser's non-responsive lips, licking her way into her teacher's mouth to brush against her teeth and tongue.

She still doesn't feel desperate, but there's a fragility to it now; an urgency driving her forward as she presses the head of her dick to her teacher's pussy and feels her heart sing. She guides it over Mrs Fraiser's clit, down between the wings of her labia, her heart jumping in her chest as Mrs Fraiser's entrance slides open easily to welcome her in. To welcome her back.

“I love you,” and, fuck, no. No. She's not supposed to acknowledge that. As long as she doesn't think about it, it doesn't hurt. As long as she thinks of her feelings in terms limited to appreciation and gratitude and lust, she can look at her teacher without tearing up at the thought of leaving her behind. Her entire body shakes with a repressed cry, her contentment fracturing.

Mrs Fraiser still feels perfect around her dick as Niala sinks in with practised ease. And she refuses to cry as she starts to work her hips back and forth.

“I love you,” but she doesn't. Because she's leaving in four – now three – days. Because Mrs Fraiser is too good of a person to ever love her back.

She's not crying.

She has to get the older woman pregnant. Forming a baby is the only connection she can leave behind. A show of her affection that will stay with Mrs Fraiser as evidence that Niala was here. That she wasn't just another student. That she was special and mattered.

Niala takes an unsteady breath, her entire body trembling with the weight of the feelings she presses down, down, down. She swallows the three words that try to escape once more, and turns her focus towards making sure her teacher has the best fucking orgasm of her life. They still echo in her chest, aching and hollow as she kisses her way down to her teacher's chest, sliding her hands down and around her hips.

She focuses on Mrs Fraiser, on the smoothness of her skin, the softness of her breasts and the hot grip of her pussy, inner muscles flexing around Niala's rigid member as she thrusts in and out.

Thanks to the experience brought about by the nights her Talent has bought her, Niala knows what sounds indicate that she's found the right angle; the little broken whine from the back of Mrs Fraiser's throat. She knows Mrs Fraiser likes having her nipples pulled. Knows her teacher's hips will instinctively jerk upwards if Niala thrusts into her forcefully while tracing a light touch up the deep valley of her breasts with her tongue. Thanks to her Talent, she knows what her teacher sounds like when she's about to orgasm, the exact way her breathy moans pitch upwards at the end as her cunt squeezes Niala's shaft.

She can identify all of the signs, so when she torments them both by pulling out just before her teacher reaches her climax it's with a shared shudder and groaned disappointment. Her dick rests on Mrs Fraiser's pubic hair, the head shiny and pink, begging to escape the shock of cool air and sink back into slick heat.

Niala sits back on her heels, Mrs Fraiser's thighs swung over her knees, and tries to calm her panting breaths. There's smears of her cum in Mrs Fraiser's pubic hair, transferred from the mess that's still on Niala's lower stomach and crotch. Mrs Fraiser's grey-green panties are stretched down around her balls, pushing them up into the underside of her dick, and she takes a moment to adjust them to be more comfortable. Her fingers slide where she tries to grip it, the material slimy with her cum. And yeah, it feels kind of gross, but that's her cum all over and inside her teacher's underwear. The thought has her shivering with a want to fill them with yet another load despite how it feels. Imagine if she had been able to do this at school. If she could sit in Mrs Fraiser's class with a raging erection and the knowledge that her teacher had Niala's cum in her panties as she was writing on the whiteboard. As she praised Niala for getting the correct answer to a surprise question.

Niala shakes her head to clear it.

Focus. That was her problem earlier. She wasn't focused, and her thoughts had gotten away from her, lured into laxness with how calm she had felt.

She's back on track now, and when she's judged enough time to have passed, she rubs Mrs Fraiser's clit between two fingers, brushing the part not fully covered by its hood and giggling as Mrs Fraiser bucks into it.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I'm ready too.”

She audibly groans as she pushes back into Mrs Fraiser's entrance. Her teacher's inner muscles squeezing down around her as if trying to pull her in quicker. So Niala gives her what she wants, leaning forward with her hands braced on either side of the older woman's body and jerking her hips forward suddenly. Mrs Fraiser arches under her, mouth open in a silent gasp even through her Talent enforced slumber as Niala is suddenly fully hilted, the head of her dick pressed deep inside her clutching pussy. Niala pulls out before either of them have a chance to adjust and thrusts in again, hard and fast. This time Mrs Fraiser's pussy clenches so hard it nearly locks her in place if not for how wet her teacher is. Niala pulls back again, her dick throbbing, and thrusts back in hard enough to shift the mattress underneath them. She continues like that. Thrusting hard into her teacher again and again as Mrs Fraiser shifts and curls underneath her, body expressive and open – only kept asleep because Niala wants her that way. The distant snoring of her husband a mellow background to the rapid slaps of their meeting genitals.

Pulling out the second time is even harder, and Niala watches her teacher's gaping pussy flex with want to the same beat of her pulsing dick. Begging her to come back. But Niala waits. She's not sure what she's building to – is working entirely off of vague instincts and half remembered fantasies – but she knows it's worth it. This is another moment she's sharing with the best woman on earth; this shared painful desperation as Mrs Fraiser whimpers, head turning as if in a nightmare as her hips reach upwards, searching for Niala.

They both moan loudly when Niala pushes back in. And Niala bends over to force their lips together, to muffle the sounds they're both making as she fucks her teacher as hard and fast as she can.

She's slightly too late pulling out the third time, and Mrs Fraiser shakes underneath her as Niala's retreating dick is followed by a rush of liquid that arcs after her. Beating against her dick and lower stomach, mixing with Niala's partially dry cum before she recognises what's happening and hurriedly pushes back in. It's hard, Mrs Fraiser is clamped down tightly, but there's little moments where her pussy eases open like it's taking a breath that allows Niala to slip her head, then the first few inches of her shaft in. Her squirting trails off, but her orgasm keeps going, her inner muscles rolling against the bit of Niala's dick that she managed to squeeze back in. Pulling at her sensitive head until Niala follows her into an orgasm of her own.

I'm still wearing her panties, Niala thinks and that sends another pulsing flood of her seed up and out of her dick and into Mrs Fraiser's grasping pussy.

By the time they both come down, Niala is panting heavily against her teacher's lips. She can feel the remnants of her teacher's orgasm dripping from her balls into the dangling seat of her underwear. Can feel how wet the material is as it brushes her thighs. The mess likely spilled out onto the sheets underneath them, but there's nothing Niala can do about it now. It will dry. She'll figure something out to make sure of it.

She can feel her dick shrinking inside Mrs Fraiser's now gentle folds, the tip warm and comfortable compared to the cooling wetness of the exposed portion of her shaft. And she grips the base of it to carefully ease it the rest of the way in, shivering as Mrs Fraiser's cunt flexes at the slight stimulation.

She's tired; still not fully recovered from her bout of insomnia the night before. Niala buries her face in the valley of her teacher's comfortable breasts, breathing in the slight hint of sweat and the remnants of some flowery body wash. Three days. She only has three days left. That's two more nights; three if she sacrifices her sleep the night before she leaves.

She misses Mrs Fraiser already. But she doesn't cry. Instead, she worms a hand between their bodies to rub the older woman's stomach. Imagining. Hoping. Pleading.

—

She stifles a yawn, taking another long sip of her coffee as she sits on the stone bench, watching her former schoolmates mingle. Grimacing as the burning liquid slides down her throat. It's just barely sweet enough to be palatable, a far cry from her preferred caramel frappuccino, but it's quite likely the only thing keeping her awake while she waits for Mrs Fraiser to arrive.

Niala had napped for an hour before dragging herself out of bed to the screeching of her phone alarm. She would have preferred to stay in bed, get the needed rest for her visit to Mrs Fraiser later tonight, but the idea she's preparing to enact had been in her head the entire ride home last night, and with graduation tomorrow, and the weekend right after, today is the only day she can attempt it.

As per usual her mom hadn't been there to question where Niala was off to. And leaving the house had been a simple matter of taking a quick shower and swallowing a slice of naked toast before heading out.

She imagines a different world as she waits; where the absence of her mother isn't a sign of her lack of care, but of Niala's grown independence. One where she met Mrs Fraiser in college instead of high school. She can't quite stretch it to imagine her as Miss Fraiser, the older woman is always married in her heart and mind, but with Niala in her twenties instead of late teens, a college student instead of the stigma of being just out of high school, there's room to imagine her teacher – her professor – being more open to her advances.

As a professor she would have her own private office where Niala could visit and press her back into a table loaded with books and papers. With Niala fully and completely an adult, years instead of months into being considered legal, Mrs Fraiser would meet her eyes with both guilt and desire, wedding ring heavy on the hand she presses to Niala's shoulder as she allows her skirt to be rolled up and her underwear pulled down. In that world, they hold hands and make eye contact as Niala presses her tongue between the older woman's lower lips to a taste much sweeter than the coffee she's currently forcing down.

Niala sighs as she pulls the overlarge cup away from her mouth, holding it between her legs as she allows the fantasy to fade away. She's not in that world. That world doesn't exist and she has to settle for what this world can give her. If she keeps thinking about the impossible she'll fall into the same pit she did this morning, making ridiculous confessions that will lead nowhere. She's smarter than that.

She frowns as she checks the time on her phone. More and more teens are arriving at school, driving themselves or being dropped off. Mrs Fraiser should be here soon and Niala scans the curved driveway, looking for a familiar white SUV. It's a few minutes later when she sees it turn into the school gates. Mrs Fraiser steps out as soon as the vehicle rolls to a stop. She doesn't kiss her husband goodbye. She never does. And he doesn't wait once the door is locked, clearing the way for the car behind him.

Niala sits, the warmth of the coffee bleeding through the paper cup and cardboard holder, hotter even than the sun bearing down on her bare shoulders, and watches as her teacher – soon to be former, she acknowledges – walks with quick, striding steps towards the open glass doors. Her heart stutters, something inside her aching, her dick perking up as she takes in the shape of Mrs Fraiser's legs under her dark stockings, skirt a few inches above her knees, steps so sharp Niala can hear the click of her heels against the concrete despite being on the other side of the lot. She turns as she walks, skin like milk chocolate glistening in the morning rays. An angel, smiling at a calling student, purse tucked under her arm, breasts swaying just slightly – not enough to be indecent. But Niala has held those breasts in her hands, seen them bare and knows how much they want to move when there's no bra to restrain them. She blinks, wishing she could go up to her teacher and walk alongside her, bask under her proud smile one last time, and then Mrs Fraiser is gone. The building swallows her whole.

Niala releases a shaky breath and takes another long drag of coffee before pushing herself to her feet. With Mrs Fraiser confirmed at school and her husband on his way to whatever he does for work – rumours state that it's construction management in the city centre – their house is empty. It's time for her to get going.

—

The white SUV is absent from the driveway as she walks past, confirming that Mr Fraiser didn't return home after dropping off Mrs Fraiser at the school. In the light of day, she has to be more careful about how she gets into the backyard. She can't just walk in through their neighbour's side gate and hop the fence like she usually does. So she continues walking at a leisurely pace.

Her phone vibrates with a text from West. They've been talking back and forth for a while, making plans for what to do after graduation. West wants her to sleep over so they can hang out all of Saturday and Niala has to turn her down; lie and say her mom is going to be home for them to have dinner together so she has to be home by eight. She only has three nights left, she's not throwing one of them away, not even for West.

The street is quiet in the residential neighbourhood, only a few parked cars along the narrow road, the trees and plants lining the sidewalks making for a comfortable stroll in the shade. She has to walk for another 10 minutes before she reaches an area where she can cut around the back of a townhouse to the overgrown wooded area behind the line of houses on this street. After she's out of sight she makes her way back in the direction she came, walking next to tall wooden fences to make sure no one in any of the homes she passes can see her.

When she's at the chipped green fence that marks her teacher's back yard, she quickly pulls herself up and over the barrier, ignoring how the wood sways under her weight. The fence to the side of the house does the same, and it's held every night before this. This fence also holds. It helps that she's much quicker than she was the first time she did this.

She makes her way across the neatly cut grass. As always, the back door is unlocked, and she leaves her shoes outside as she makes her way into the house proper.

It's different during the day. Light filters through the curtains, highlighting the warm, dark tones of the wooden floorboards and the paintings and pictures on the walls, what had always seemed like shadows on top of shadows to her. Niala avoids the front of the house as she explores, wary of being seen through the street facing windows, but that leaves her with plenty to take in.

It's a normal home, not different from her own in some ways. There are more pictures of Mrs Fraiser, her husband and their relatives than there are photos of Niala and her mom in her own house. Pictures of them clearly on vacation, in front of colourful temples and majestic vistas. There's a picture of a much younger Mrs Fraiser propped up on a glass door cabinet next to a small trophy. Her long hair is twisted into a high braid as she holds up a double sided paddle, seated in an orange kayak by a wooden dock with another girl – maybe a sister from how similar they look – kneeling on the dock next to her, leaning over the edge so that they both fit in the middle of the frame.

There's not much else that stands out downstairs, so she makes her way upstairs. Some of the stairs do creak, and she pats herself on the back for not risking the middle of the steps on her nightly visits. When she's standing in the middle of Mrs Fraiser's bedroom, the door behind her wide open and leading to the rest of the empty house, she's not sure what else to do.

She's here now. The entire house to herself for the next six hours, if she wants to stay for that long. Well, the easiest thing to think of…

Niala walks over to a familiar dresser and pulls open the drawer that holds Mrs Fraiser's underwear. It's somewhat organised, so Niala takes care to place each garment in the order she removes them as she lays them out on the bed. There's varying types. Low cut, high waist. Boy shorts and granny panties. Bikini cuts and even two thongs. She lays all of them out on the bed, imagining Mrs Fraiser in them as she gently spreads them out. There are a few she recognises, recently washed after she snuck them into the laundry hamper.

She wonders what Mrs Fraiser would do if she came back to all of them gone, even the ones that still need to be washed. Well, no, she knows she'd call the cops, but outside of that. Would she go without until she could buy more? Probably not, there's plenty of stores within driving distance where she can buy a cheap pack. And what would it matter anyway, if Niala wouldn't be able to tell.

Gods, why is Niala even here? What was the point of this? She rubs at her eyes, still tired despite the heavy dose of caffeine buzzing through her system. She had a plan last night, break into Mrs Fraiser's house during the day, and walk around freely in her teacher's personal space. But what good is that when Mrs Fraiser isn't here.

She sighs, then turns around and allows herself to fall backwards onto the bed. Mrs Fraiser is probably teaching her first class of the day. Who knows when the last time she even thought of Niala was. Her arms cross over multiple pairs of the older woman's underwear, varying textures against her skin marking how each one is different.

“I'm here,” she murmurs to the empty room. “Now what?”

She lies there for a long moment, until the threat of falling asleep forces her to sit up.

There's really only one thing she can think to do, if she's honest with herself. Something that will surely pay off when she visits later tonight.

Niala pushes herself to her feet and unbuttons her pants, kicking them down and off her legs. Next to go is her boyshorts, her flaccid dick hanging loose between her legs. She decides to go methodically, starting with the underwear that had been at the very bottom of the drawer, a red pair with cheap lace stitched to the front. It's scratchy against her palm, but the inside is soft and smooth as she wraps it around her dick with a few quick strokes. Then she places it back in the dresser, as close to how she found it as possible.

She does the same to the next underwear in line. Then the next. Sometimes stroking her dick, other times rubbing her balls with them, really just making sure they all have some kind of contact with her member. Whichever one Mrs Fraiser chooses to wear, there will be days, maybe weeks, of her having a bit of Niala's DNA pressed close against her pussy. Long after Niala is gone.

By the time she's on the last few panties her dick is nearly horizontal and still rising. She's taking longer and longer with each one, pulling back her foreskin to touch the tip of her swelling member to the soft fabric of the inner lining.

Niala picks up the next pair of underwear – a white bikini cut with a pink ribbon printed on the side, and uses the seat of it to stroke her dick as she scrolls through the gallery on her phone. She has dozens of pictures of Mrs Fraiser, taken in secret, grabbed from school event photos and her teacher's social media accounts. There's one in particular she's looking for; a five year old selfie from a neglected personal account. An accidental like had made Mrs Fraiser delete it, probably worried about it making its way to the overly cautious school board, but not before Niala saved the image to her phone. It's a picture Niala has masturbated to often, before she knew what Mrs Fraiser's naked body looked like.

It's lost a bit of its lustre since then, no longer her first option over replaying her memories of these special few nights. But it's still an amazing image, and pulling it up on her phone, Niala is reminded of just how much finding this image had felt like unearthing diamonds.

A slightly younger version of her teacher looks up at the camera, sunlight highlighting the wet glow of her skin. A scattering of white sand clings to one bare shoulder. Her boobs large and impossible to ignore, the top down view of her cleavage enhanced by how the bikini she wears is maybe a size too small. Niala has stared at this image enough to notice the shallow bumps in the bikini top where the minimal padding fails to fully obscure her teacher's nipples. Mrs Fraiser is winking at the camera, her smile half cocked like they're sharing a secret.

She's imagined pulling the dainty string holding the top in place before. But doing it now, as she's standing in Mrs Fraiser's room and stroking her dick with the woman's underwear feels wholly different. Not to mention she knows what her teacher's breasts look like now and can fill in the weak points of her prior imaginings with certainty.

Niala allows the entirety of her focus to dial in on the image. Mrs Fraiser is smiling up at her. Sprawled between her legs as they lay on a towel at the beach. Grin widening as Niala loosens the bow behind her neck and folds the top of the bikini downwards. Her nipples are wet from the dip in the water and glisten in the glaring sun. She knows Niala is touching herself, though she can't see it without fully turning around. Her smile encourages her to keep going.

In fact, her teacher decides to join her in masturbating; the hand by her side trailing fingers between her legs overtop of her matching bikini bottoms, before pulling them aside to rub between her slit and over her clit directly. Her other hand runs over her left breast, pushing it upwards as she goes, hand angled so that her nipple falls in the divot between her index and middle finger.

Niala feels the building pressure at the base of her dick as she focuses on Mrs Fraiser's smirking lips, the hand between her teacher's legs making subtle motions with her delicate fingers.

I want to fuck her on that beach, she thinks. And the image in her mind changes rapidly. Mrs Fraiser still has that same secretive smirk, but she's on her stomach now, breasts rubbing Niala's thighs and bare ass glistening in the sun just like the rest of her body. It's not Niala's hand on her dick. It's Mrs Fraiser's, her missing bikini bottoms in that same hand, twisting around her swollen member. Mrs Fraiser leans forward, presses a kiss to the pink head and Niala's eyes shut tight as her orgasm kicks her hips forward.

She has enough presence of mind to release into Mrs Fraiser's panties and not on the bed. She tries to restructure the fractured scene in her head as she unloads into smooth fabric. Mrs Fraiser, ass bare, bikini top untied, hand wrapping the bottom half of her swimwear around Niala's dick. Still jerking her off as she cums. Mouth open to catch Niala's arcing sperm, not all of it hitting the open target. The image of her teacher with Niala's cum on her tongue and chin and hand and bikini bottoms sends another heavy load shooting from her dick. And Niala moans her release as Mrs Fraiser closes her lips over the head of her dick to lick her clean.

When she opens her eyes it's to the empty, sunlit room, the neatly made bed – slightly rumpled from where she collapsed on it earlier – and the three remaining pairs of underwear laid out just under the pillows. Mrs Fraiser's younger self still smirks up at her from her phone screen, but it's a still image, bikini top revealing but firmly in place.

It's not fair. Mrs Fraiser is forever going to be the one that got away from her. Niala never even had a chance.

She cleans her dick as best she can with the already stained panties before walking to the bathroom to rest them in the sink. She'll deal with them later.

She feels even more lethargic now. Is honestly tempted to set an alarm and sleep for a few hours in Mrs Fraiser's bed, but that's such an insanely stupid idea that she doesn't consider it seriously. Instead she finishes up with Mrs Fraiser's underwear, replacing the last of them in the drawer.

She then commits to snooping. Looking through drawers she had ignored on previous nights and checking through the closet. There's articles of clothing that she recognises from when her teacher has worn them to school. As well as outfits that she recognises from posts on Mrs Fraiser's socials. She also finds a handful of sex toys in a small box; two egg vibrators and a small strap on. Does Mrs Fraiser peg her husband? Only one of the vibrators turns on with a harsh whir, and Niala makes a note of it as she replaces the box. Maybe she'll make use of it on Mrs Fraiser later.

Her snooping carries her into the bathroom where she finds an unopened pack of tampons under the sink and some expired pain medication, but nothing else of interest. Expanding her search downstairs finds the laundry room, and she quickly rinses out the underwear she left in the upstairs bathroom before putting it on a 20 minute dryer cycle. While that's drying, she manages to find a study with two laptops.

The window in the study faces the backyard, so she freely walks in without worry of being seen in her partially undressed state. The first laptop she checks – situated on a small desk in front of an overfull bookcase – is password locked. The second – on a standing desk in front of the window, opens already powered on to an excel spreadsheet with a list of names and grades. Mrs Fraiser really should care more about her personal privacy, Niala thinks. At the same time, she's glad her teacher is so lax. She wouldn't have nearly as many pictures of the older woman otherwise.

She's not any sort of hacker, so her teacher's lack of security really does work out great for her.

Thankfully, Mrs Fraiser is the type to actually organise her files. It makes browsing through folders easier. Unfortunately, there's not much of interest for her to find. Just a handful of meme images taken from the internet and a plethora of ordinary family photos. So she turns to the browser instead. A quick check of the browser's password manager lets her find Mrs Fraiser's personal email and autofill gets her logged in.

She's stumped for a second, not sure how to quickly go through 7 gigabytes worth of email when she gets the idea to use the media filter instead. The ones on the first page seem to all be job related so she sorts them oldest to newest and is rewarded on her tenth click with an email dated from 12 years ago that has an image of a younger Mrs Fraiser in a loose shirt and white panties, posing with her arms around a raised knee on the edge of a bed. Opening the email to download the image to a newly created folder on the desktop greets her with a fileshare link.

The email is addressed to someone named Isiah, and it's… well.

Isiah,

The file was too big to send over msngr, so here's a link. And a pic as a teaser ;)

<3 <3

There's… there's no way that link still works, right? Heart high in her throat, scarcely beating, Niala opens the link in a new tab and breathes out roughly when she isn't met with an error page. It takes four minutes to download the video file, and she spends it anxiously watching the percentage tick up, not daring to hope that the file isn't corrupted or a prank or something else.

The second the download finishes Niala double clicks it and – holy shit. A younger Mrs Fraiser steps back from the camera. The quality is a little grainy, but not bad enough to make it difficult to make out details. The room is well lit, and her teacher looks to be in her early twenties as she bends forward and twiddles her fingers in a flirty greeting. Her large breasts sway as she moves, the wide collar showing her deep cleavage. She isn't wearing a bra.

Niala feels very much awake as Mrs Fraiser's voice comes through the laptop speakers.

“Hey babe.”

Niala's dick twitches to attention. She doesn't dare say anything back, though she decides to immediately pretend that everything Mrs Fraiser will say is directed to her specifically.

“It's my first time doing something like this, so don't laugh!”

She smiles as she says it. And it's Mrs Fraiser, it's her voice, but she sounds so different. And not just because of the slight metallic sound of the recording.

“And send me your video before you watch this. Don't leave me waiting! I'm looking forward to it a lot too,” she giggles. Giggles. Niala has never heard Mrs Fraiser giggle. Chuckle and outright laugh, yes. But giggle?

“I'm serious. No, I'm not just stalling! Well-” she twirls as she steps back again, the wide hem of her shirt flaring slightly, revealing the curve of her hip and dip of her back. Her ass looks amazing in the brief second it faces the camera. And then Mrs Fraiser drops back onto the bed, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back on one arm as her other hand teases at her collar. “I am, just a little.”

She takes a visible breath that Niala echoes, and then slowly swings her legs open.

“I'm nervous as shit,” she says, and Niala can hear it in her voice, in the tremble that feels tied to her rising dick. She's going to drip all over the floor if she's not careful. “But I think of you and that video you promised in return.” She takes another noticeably deep breath and shifts her hand down her stomach, teasing her shirt upwards. “Of your cute cock.”

Niala's dick twitches and she inhales sharply at hearing Mrs Fraiser call her cock cute.

Her teacher chuckles, and her shirt is high enough to show the underside of one boob as her hand squeezes the opposite tit. And holy fuck this is so hot. Niala feels like she's overheating. Her fingers twitch as if they want to hold on to something but she's too focused on the screen to decide on what.

“I know you don't like me calling it cute, but it is. It's always so happy to see me. And the way it jumps at the slightest brush of my fingers,” Niala's dick does just that, as if following Mrs Fraiser's command.

Mrs Fraiser sits forward and pulls the shirt up over her head. Her breasts are just as big as they are now, dark brown nipples clearly hard. Niala bites her lip and reaches down to grip her dick. It's warm in her hand.

“I love how it feels when you rub it against me.”

Both her teacher's hands are playing with her tits as Niala watches. And her legs open even wider, the white of her panties a broad line between her brown thighs. Niala's breath hitches as she starts to slowly stroke her length. She swears she can feel the beat of her pulse in the individual veins of her dick as she does.

“Even when it's covered, baby,” baby, she just said, “I can tell how thick it is. And then I just want your cute, fat, monster of a cock inside me.”

Niala shivers, feeling unsteady on her feet. Hearing those words from the friendly but always appropriately professional Mrs Fraiser sends her dick into a frenzy. It doesn't matter how slow her strokes are, her fingers are already wet with her own pre, her cute, fat, monster of a cock throbbing and dangerously close to an orgasm. This is how her teacher would talk if Niala wasn't her student.

Mrs Fraiser twists her nipples with a moan that causes Niala's balls to pull up tight. Then she pushes to her feet, slipping her thumbs underneath the band of her underwear.

“Ready to see how wet you make me?”

Niala nods eagerly, uncaring that Mrs Fraiser from a decade ago can't see it.

She's pulled Mrs Fraiser's panties down her legs plenty of times now, is intimately familiar with the sight of her lovely pussy as it's slowly revealed. But pulling Mrs Fraiser's panties down as she sleeps and watching the woman in question do so herself are two entirely different experiences she realises. Mrs Fraiser pulls them down slowly, shaking her hips as if they're tight jeans she's working down her legs instead of a strip of soft and flexible fabric. Her heavy breasts jiggle as she makes the exaggerated movements and Niala feels more pre drip over her fingers.

She pauses at the first hint of pubic hair to wink at the camera, leaving them there to squeeze her breasts again, lifting one up so she can bend her head and suck on her own nipple.

She's teasing me, Niala thinks as her teacher works over her breasts with her hands, moaning around the nipple in her mouth while she swings her hips forward and back for the camera. She looks up, locking eyes with Niala, gaze sensual and knowing as she releases her nipple to lap at it with her tongue and-

Niala cums. Her entire lower body tense, grip tight around her dick as she feels the cum work its way from her balls and up her dick before shooting out of it like a rocket. She watches, eyes glued to the screen as Mrs Fraiser's tongue circles the peak of her nipple, hips still moving back and forth like she wants to be grinding against something specific. Against me.

She pauses the video. Releasing a gasp as she breathes, suddenly light headed.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Are there more videos like this hidden away in her teacher's email? Is this the only one? She looks at the time stamp and the video is only half over.

Her dick is still throbbing in her hand, even though the pressure has eased off. A quick look down confirms that her cum is all over the wooden floor. She'll have to clean that up before she leaves.

She looks back at the laptop screen. The clock in the bottom right says she's been in Mrs Fraiser's home for about an hour. There's plenty of time before she has to clear out.

Taking a deep breath, Niala flexes her fingers before wrapping them back around her still excited dick. With her other hand she clicks play on the video.

On the screen, Mrs Fraiser takes her nipple into her mouth again with another drawn out moan. She drops her other breast, reaching her hand down into her panties and Niala starts stroking herself as she watches the bump of those fingers moving underneath the cloth. She pulls away from her breast after a while, the nipple shiny with spit.

“Mm,” she hums. “Look.” And Niala follows the movement of her hands as she goes to continue pushing her panties down her hips. This time not stopping as she bends over, breasts swinging forward, to slide them all the way down her legs. She sticks the finger that had been inside her underwear into her mouth as she sashays forward, completely nude with her underwear in her hand.

She holds it right up to the camera, so Niala can see the damp seat and stretchy grool clinging to the fabric.

“This is how wet I get when I think of you.”

The panties move off screen to show Mrs Fraiser's wet nipple, close enough to see the wrinkles in her areola as the screen starts shaking.

“Give me a second,” her teacher says. The camera suddenly tilts down, and Niala is treated to a shot of her teacher's trimmed pussy and long legs before it suddenly cuts to Mrs Fraiser sat up on the bed.

It takes a second to realise she moved the camera closer, maybe even zoomed in slightly so that her spread knees are just slightly out of frame. She looks shy. Like the break to adjust the camera made her remember that she was nervous.

Adorable, Niala thinks as Mrs Fraiser bites her bottom lip.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Her voice shakes slightly at the very end, but her hand is steady as she reaches between her legs and starts touching herself. Niala traces the head of her dick with a finger and thumb as her teacher's fingers slide between her lips. Her voice sounds breathier as she continues. “I swear, baby, if you show this to anyone.”

And then she's pushing two fingers into her pussy. Niala holds her breath as her teacher tilts her hips towards the camera, angling her hand so Niala can clearly see as her fingers enter and exit her cunt.

Niala's dick jumps in her grip, and she holds it more firmly as she speeds up her strokes.

Mrs Fraiser is leaning back on her elbow, playing with her nipple with her free hand as the other makes steady even strokes between her legs. Niala matches her pace, watching intently as her teacher's expression relaxes over time. Her fingers continue to move in and out of her pussy and Niala realises her earlier imaginings of Mrs Fraiser on the beach were woefully inadequate. There were so many details missing in the way her teacher's fingers hooked while pushing in, the way her index and pinky fingers framed her outer lips and brushed against her thighs. The way her fingers shone as they pulled free, connected by thick bands of translucent arousal as she slides them up her slit to tickle her clit before going right back to fucking herself.

It sounds different too. Even through the shitty audio of whatever old camera her teacher is using, Mrs Fraiser's moans are fuller, more throaty. Not the breathy, fragile, murmured moans and gentle huffs that Niala draws from her while she's sleeping.

I want to hear her make those sounds with me.

She knows it will never happen, but she still wants it.

She moans with disappointment when Mrs Fraiser pulls her fingers out and sits up. Leaning to the side out of frame as something makes a low shuffling noise. When she settles back in view of the camera and Niala sees what she was reaching for, she can't help the low groan that drags from her throat. Mrs Fraiser lines up the thick, pale dildo with her entrance. Looking up at the camera as she shifts to give Niala as clear a view as possible while she pushes it into her pussy.

“Fuck,” Niala groans at the same time her teacher gasps a hurried “Oh my god.”

She stretches around the thick shaft, pushing it in all the way until only the fake balls at the end are visible, flat at the back like a plug. Mrs Fraiser lies on her back, chest pushed up as her legs shift to give herself better access. Then she starts to really and truly fuck herself with the dildo. The height of the camera makes it so Niala can see everything, looking down at a slight angle and watching the way her teacher's body squirms on the bed. It makes it easy to place herself between her teacher's legs, feeling the heated pulse of her dick as she builds herself to her second orgasm.

Mrs Fraiser rubs at her clit with her other hand, and gods, she moves so much. Hips curling into every thrust, thigh muscles flexing as she braces herself with her legs one moment then pushes into the sheets the next. Her breasts jiggle on her chest, mouth open as she pants. And on every thrust her wrist flexes as she pulls the dildo more than halfway out before shoving it all back in.

“Baby,” Mrs Fraiser groans and Niala jerks into her own hand as if the word itself pulls her dick forward.

Then Mrs Fraiser's upper body curls forward, her hand falling still with the dildo deep in her centre as she shakes. Niala feels her own orgasm building as she watches, transfixed, and when Mrs Fraiser pulls the dildo from her pussy with a lazy flick, the brief moment where her pussy gapes open before her muscles close back up sends Niala right over the edge.

The rest of the video is her teacher recovering from her orgasm, wet pussy glimmering between her spread legs as she basks in the moment. Until she sits up and blows a kiss to the camera and the screen goes black, leaving Niala to blink at her own reflection.

With her only clean hand, she emails herself the video through a filesharing website that promises privacy and data encryption. Then deletes the video from the laptop, including the recycling bin. She checks for any other emails to Isaiah, and finds a few, but they don't have any attached images or links.

Fuck if she isn't absolutely exhausted, but this trip was definitely worth missing out on more sleep. She deletes the evidence of her passing from the browser history, puts the screen back to the original spreadsheet and then closes the laptop without turning it off; exactly as she found it.

Now to clean up the floor before it stains, get the panties from the dryer, dress and head back home to pass out until dinner.

Tomorrow is going to be a very long day. If she times everything right, she can watch the video again before she has to leave for the graduation ceremony.

Chapter Text

Niala's balls are sweating. That's her great, profound thought as she shakes Principal Wicker's hand and accepts the black cylinder containing her high school diploma.

Her balls are sweaty, her feet feel unsteady in her heels, and the smile she aims at the camera when prompted feels painfully awkward. She's too busy focusing on trying to present a reasonable profile for the bald cameraman in front of the stage to look out into the sitting audience and identify the voices cheering for her. And by the time she blinks the camera flash out of her eyes Principal Wicker is pointing her to the other end of the stage and the next person's name is being called.

Don't fall. Don't fall. Ignore how your sweating balls are making your underwear damp. Fuck, who's idea was it for their graduation robes to be mostly black? Even with the sun on its way down, the heavy fabric feels sweltering. The dress she's wearing underneath sticks to her back uncomfortably. She hopes she doesn't smell.

The wooden steps vibrate under her carefully planted footfalls and she has to hold her heart in her throat and make it halfway down the rickety steps on her own before Coach Gallian reaches out a helping hand for her to grab onto. Asshole. He should have done that earlier.

And then it's done. She's back on compacted dirt and threadbare grass, the diploma in her hand marking her as an official high school graduate. She casts a glance over the seated crowd as she makes her way back to her seat. Grant and West are both on their feet, the former punching the air in her direction in exaggerated playfulness when they make eye contact. It's an old thing they used to do, before… before. Niala is too self conscious to do the matching movements, wary of pretending to fall backwards in her heels and conscious of the few eyes that pass over her as she walks. So she smiles and waves instead. Then, after a brief pause pumps the fist holding her diploma in the air once. Grant smiles back, then sits down.

West on the other hand is pushing her way through the row of seats and past their bleary-eyed classmates. Niala watches with amusement, slowing her pace to give West time to reach the aisle ahead of her.

A gentle touch to her wrist causes her to look down and Mrs Fraiser smiles up at her from her aisle seat. The dark curl of her winged eyeliner works with her smokey eyeshadow to make her eyes look like they're smoldering. Like they're demanding something of Niala that she's all too willing to give.

“Congrats,” her teacher mouths silently, and Niala traces the formation of the word on her painted lips, heart suddenly racing and palms sweaty. Her body taut as she does her best not to chase her teacher's retreating hand. The press of her teacher's fingers feels etched into her wrist. She grins, she can't help it. She feels giddy and fluttery and it takes everything in her to keep walking when Mrs Fraiser tilts her head to encourage Niala back to her seat.

She's floating on cloud nine as she moves on, body thrumming and steps light as her mind stays stuck on the brief interaction. Not even the impact of West’s overenthusiastic hug is enough to knock the grin off her face.

—

They're supposed to stay in their seats until the end of the ceremony, but West drags her off the field and in the direction of the bathrooms before ducking into a random classroom once no one else is around to spot them. Niala doesn't care enough about the rules to resist. The graduation ceremony has already been going on for two hours too long and now that they both have their diplomas what is the school going to do? Take them back?

She pushes the door shut behind them as West hops onto the teacher's desk, kicking her legs as she leans forward.

“If I stayed there any longer I was gonna die of old age before even getting to Terilo,” West groans, dropping her head between her knees dramatically before sitting up again to playfully glare at Niala. “Why couldn't your last name be Dennis or something, instead of all the way down in the P’s?”

Niala shrugs. “I didn't exactly have this situation in mind when I was choosing my name.” She'd more just been thinking about distancing herself from the pain of being functionally disowned, and her mom's maiden name had felt like an appropriate replacement.

“That's a lack of forward thinking on your part,” West complains, and Niala rolls her eyes even as she smiles.

She places her diploma on a random desk before unzipping the graduation gown partway. She's not going to bother with taking it off, unwilling to put in the effort to make sure the stole looks right under the collar when she inevitably has to put it back on. But even just opening the zipper helps to make it feel less stifling.

“Alright,” West says, she's followed Niala's example, but went a step further to pull the gown down around her waist, showing her thin, pale arms and the light blue sleeveless dress she has on underneath. “Spill.”

“Spill what?”

“If you're not coming over my house before you leave, then I demand to see the stolen bounty of your latest bout of online stalking right now.”

Niala frowns slightly at the use of the word stalking, but it's not like she can argue the point. She knows exactly what West will say if she brings up that argument again.

“I never said I wouldn't visit before leaving, just that I can't spend the night.”

“Not the point,” West rolls her eyes. “Come on, Niala, share with the class.”

“Who says I found anything new?”

“You only ever make the spicy doe eyes at Mrs Fraiser when you've dug up some new image to add to your collection.”

“Spicy?”

“Stalling!”

Niala shuffles slightly. She is trying to stall, because she's not sure how West would react if she saw the video of Mrs Fraiser masturbating. Pictures of Mrs Fraiser in casual clothes or a bikini is one thing, what Niala found by breaking into her house is an entirely different beast.

Unfortunately, West knows her well enough to read her hesitation like a book. Her eyebrows climbing up under her bangs the longer Niala takes to answer.

“Oh now I definitely need to see.”

She pushes herself off the table and walks forward, holding the front of her gown with one hand to keep it from falling and stretching her other hand out towards Niala.

“Come on. Show me.”

She can't just tell West no. Not when she's made a habit of sharing her findings with the other girl. It would signal too many red flags. And as much as West teases her about her crush and has fun with her… detective work, every now and then there's this look she gives Niala. Like she's concerned.

Niala bites her lip and then takes out her phone, reaching inside her gown to pull it from an inside pocket. She has to show West something and the picture that was in the email with the video link, while not exactly tame, is still a lot less risque than the video itself.

She hands West her phone once she pulls up the image of her teacher in a loose shirt and underwear and her friend's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as she whispers, “Oh shit.”

She looks up from the phone, “What the fuck, Niala? Where did you even find this?”

Niala could lie and say she found it buried on some defunct social media site, like some of the other pictures she's found, but she doesn't want to imply that Mrs Fraiser is the type of person to post half naked pictures of herself on the internet. So she decides to go with the truth. Well, part of it.

“In an old email.”

West starts to turn a peculiar shade of red, eyes narrowing and mouth screwing up in a look that lets Niala know that she's in for it.

“You hacked her email?”

“Well, no, I mean,” she can't say she broke into Mrs Fraiser's house. “It was an old email,” she comes up with the lie quickly. “Tied to an old social media account. I'm pretty sure the last time Mrs Fraiser used it was a decade ago, so-”

“So you hacked her email,” West stresses.

“Is it really her email if she doesn't even use it anymore? At that point it's an artifact of the internet.”

“Niala!” West hisses. “If you get arrested it should be for something that I can get street cred bragging about. I can't brag about you being a sex offender!”

Niala winces at the inadvertent accuracy of that hit. “Hacking isn't a sex offense. And you didn't have an issue with all the other pictures.”

“Those were publicly available,” West bites back.

“Well this picture is over a decade old. It's not like I broke into her house and took a picture of her undressing or anything.”

West leans backwards and shakes her head incredulously.

“Oh my god, my best friend is an idiot.”

Wow. Okay. Rude.

Before Niala can respond, West hands her phone back, pointing down at the screen and the picture of Mrs Fraiser posed on the bed.

“You should delete that.”

“What?” Niala asks, genuinely surprised. “No, why?”

“Because it's evidence of a crime.”

“It's not like I'm going to show it to anyone. It's fine.” She holds the phone to her chest, feeling protective of it even though she knows West probably isn't going to forcefully take it after just handing it back.

“Niala, I love you, even when you're a walking disaster for a woman who's twice your age, but just,” she trails off. West sighs and the tense line of her shoulders drops. Her face is still red but the crease of her brow and her frown bleed concern now. So much so that Niala actually feels slightly guilty for lying to her. Because West isn't wrong, it would be safer to delete both the photo and video. But the risk of getting caught is so remote that Niala would rather take the chance.

“Just… don't do anything too stupid. Okay?”

“Trust me,” Niala nods. “I won't.”

West just raises an eyebrow, not seeming convinced. “I'm gonna go to church next Sunday just so I can pray for you to find a nice girl to fuck at TAsseT.”

Niala nearly chokes on her laugh. “What?”

“Good pussy will distract you from the inevitable heartbreak.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“Anytime. Now pull up season 5 of Beyond the Dead. I'm not going back out there until I hear the closing notes of our exit march.”

—

By the time Niala is sliding open the backdoor to Mrs Fraiser's home she's put most of the conversation with West out of her mind. It's easy enough to do with the excitement of finally graduating. Instead of her friend's concern, Niala's thoughts are filled with the warmth and laughter of the congratulatory hugs from West’s parents and the shy but solid smile of her mother as they all gathered for pictures.

She thinks about her brief interaction with Mrs Fraiser and the way the older woman had smiled up at her, green eyes sparkling with pride and her gentle smile turning somewhat teasing at the end. If she concentrates, she can still feel the imprint of Mrs Fraiser's fingers on her wrist, as if her teacher is holding her hand to guide her through the dark house.

It's later than it usually is, since Niala had needed to avoid her night owl of a mother instead of just waltzing out of the typically empty house. There's only about two hours until dawn, so her plan for the night is to be quick and purposeful. It's also easy to remember, because her plan is to “go down the line”. Mouth. Breasts. Pussy. A shiver of anticipation passes down her back as she imagines it. She's excited, happy, eager, so it takes her a while to realise that something is off.

It creeps into her awareness as she's making her way up the stairs. An unsettling feeling that slowly clarifies into a horribly familiar set of sounds as she steps onto the top landing. Niala's good mood plummets.

It's softer than a whisper, muffled by the walls and the locked door to Mrs Fraiser's bedroom. But with the dead quiet of a sleeping neighbourhood, Niala can hear it well enough to recognise it for what it is.

She freezes, one foot still on the last step, hand against the wall. Horrified and scared and heartbroken all in one. She doesn't know what to do. This isn't how tonight is supposed to go. Mrs Fraiser is supposed to be hers at night. She should be asleep, so Niala can paint her love across her body in secret. Mouth, breasts, pussy. Niala is supposed fuck all three with the imprint of Mrs Fraiser's proud smile held in her mind and -

An unfamiliar moan rises above the low creaking of the bed. Mr Fraiser. It has to be.

What should she do? Does she wait them out? Leave? She can't have Mrs Fraiser tonight. She knows… she knows she's never really had a chance to be the one Mrs Fraiser loves, but that doesn't mean she's okay with playing second fiddle to a man who can't even kiss his wife goodbye on the way to work. She's not -

She doesn't want to fuck Mrs Fraiser while someone else's cum is working its way to her ovaries. The very idea of sliding her dick through someone else's spent seed is revolting.

So she should leave. But it's her second to last night. Her second to last chance. And Mrs Fraiser is right there. She smiled at Niala today. She singled her out and held her hand! Personally congratulated Niala out of all her students! She knows! She'd checked as West was pulling her away from the field and Mrs Fraiser hadn't reached out to any other student that passed her by. Niala still remembers how gentle her grip had been; feels it stitched into the skin of her wrist like an itch she can't scratch.

She steps forward, two dazed steps before she stops again. She wants to go peek through the door to confirm what she's hearing, but it's too risky. They're both awake in there, and for all Niala knows they could be facing the doorway. Another moan meanders down the hall, chased by a soft giggle, words Niala can't make out. And her heart skips a beat because that's Mrs Fraiser's giggle. That's the sound of her teacher getting fucked, and Niala wants to see that. Wants to see what position she prefers, how she touches her partner during it, what face she makes as she cums and if it's the same as in the video from a decade ago. Just thinking about what's on the other side of that door has her getting hard in her shorts. But at the same time she doesn't want to see Mr Fraiser fucking the woman that should be hers. At night. Hers at night.

Maybe this would be easier to stomach if he was some faceless mannequin, abstract and replaceable instead of a real person. She could watch Mrs Fraiser fuck a mannequin, she thinks. Her slowly hardening dick twitches a shallow agreement as she briefly imagines it.

It's confusing. Her feelings about this are all mixed up and tangled together. But the more sounds that she's able to identify as Mrs Fraiser's, the more the pounding of her heart switches from terror at being discovered to something more familiar.

The questions in her head are burning. What position does Mrs Fraiser like? On her back? On all fours? Does she like to be on top, riding Niala like a cowgirl taming a bucking bull? Is she as much of a tease as Niala imagines her to be? It sure sounds like it. Fuck, Niala wants to touch herself just thinking about it.

If she opens the door, she can find out. Just a little peak. Her feet want to take her right up to the threshold, but she forces them into the adjacent room instead. The wall that it shares with Mrs Fraiser's bedroom is occupied by a closet half filled with boxes and numerous jackets. Niala could flop onto the bed and try waiting the two of them out. They have to sleep eventually after all. But the sounds of Mrs Fraiser awake while having sex are too hypnotising.

There's enough space in the closet for Niala to stand without feeling too crowded, and pressing her ear to the wall makes it a little easier to hear what's going on in the next room.

Some sounds are easier to hear than others. Mr Fraiser's low grunts are thankfully muddied and difficult to pick up, while Mrs Fraiser's higher pitched voice comes across more clearly. The bed is a squeaky back and forth grind that lets Niala track the rhythm of how her teacher is being fucked. It's not a consistent, steady thing, like Niala usually tries to do. It rises and falls, a creaking thrum, and then it skips a beat or two before starting up again off-beat. If she likens it to a song, then the timing is all over place, and the accompaniments are muffled grunts, whispered moans, and Mrs Fraiser's panting breaths that are so difficult to pick up through the wall that Niala is half convinced she's imagining it.

Her shorts get increasingly uncomfortable as she stands there, pressed against the wall. Heat rising throughout her body. She wishes it was her on the other side of the wall. Wishes Mr Fraiser was tied up and gagged on a chair while Niala and Mrs Fraiser came together as one.

However they're fucking, it's inconsistent. There's periods where the only sounds in the room are that of voices, pitched low and seductive.

“Thought you were going to show me…” she thinks she hears Mrs Fraiser say. There's more but Niala can't hear clearly enough to decipher it.

There's a huff of a laugh, loud compared to everything else. Mr Fraiser's voice is rough and fond as he replies. “You're,” she can't make out the middle portion, “always have to tease me.”

Niala can hear the sly smugness in her teacher's voice, and the Mrs Fraiser in her mind’s eye makes an expression Niala has never seen on her teacher before, coy and fond and flirty. “You love… when I… . Now…”

Niala presses up hard against the wall trying to hear more. Her dick is throbbing, and the confinement of her shorts is too distracting, so she pulls them down her thighs in one go, underwear and all. Fuck, so Mrs Fraiser really is the type to tease her partner during sex. Niala was right!

Mr Fraiser says something that causes Mrs Fraiser to laugh suddenly and Niala's heart and dick both jump at the melodic sound. It's cut off by a moan as the shifting of the bed becomes audible again. Niala closes her eyes as she wraps her hand around her dick. And this isn't what she wants but it's still Mrs Fraiser she's listening to. Mrs Fraiser awake and enjoying the sex she's participating in. It's not Niala in there, but she's good at pretending.

Mrs Fraiser would be underneath her on the bed, legs spread wide to show Niala's dick moving in and out of her pussy, dark curls holding onto a mix of slick and Niala's cum, heels digging into Niala's ass to keep her moving. A teasing smirk on her face, daring Niala to try and break her composure. Niala says something, and it causes her to laugh, her hands reach up to Niala's neck, pulling her closer. Looking at Niala, only at Niala. Niala fucks her even harder, and she moans in appreciation, voice hitching as the pace suddenly shifts.

“Baby,” her teacher whispers, eyes happy and proud like they had been during graduation.

Niala's dick is swollen and hot in her hand. No, in Mrs Fraiser's perfect pussy. That clings to her just right.

More moans filter through the wall and Niala bites her lip as she forces herself into that moment. The pitch of Mrs Fraiser's voice changes, her moans are long, drawn out things that pitch up on each thrust of Niala's hips.

“Close,” her teacher gasps, voice clear and breathless. “Keep going.”

Niala was never planning to stop. Her fingers slip in her own pre-cum as she matches her movements to the creaking of the bed. Her balls pull up, ready to unload right there and then, but she's waiting. Mrs Fraiser said she was close. They can cum together. Connected despite everything.

Her teacher sounds a bit like she did in the video, though her voice isn't as high. She does a familiar bitten back scream and Niala tightens her fist to simulate how Mrs Fraiser's pussy will be clamping down right now and follows her teacher into her orgasm. She pumps her fist on her dick after the initial surge, playing back the sound of her teacher's orgasm in her head, her first time hearing her teacher like this awake and in person, and sends another drawn out spurt surging from the tip of her dick, balls tight as her hips buck forward.

Her dick taps the wall and the spike of pressure against her sensitive head pulls her out of the moment. She opens her eyes.

Right. She's in a closet. Listening in on her teacher getting fucked by her husband and desperately wishing she was in his place. She's a fucking voyeur now. Her dick pulses lazily in her loosened grip. She can just barely make out the streaks of her cum against the closet wall in the dark. She feels pathetic.

On the other side of the wall the creaking of the bed picks up again as Mr Fraiser chases his own orgasm. She hopes he's using a condom, and tries to ignore the part of her that says that they're married, so why would they.

Mrs Fraiser's moans still filter through the wall. Beautifully meandering. Pleased.

Niala stands there. Softening dick in her hand, knowing that she's going to have to wait them out so she can at least clean up the mess she made. She tries to stop the feeling swelling in her chest. Tries to cast off the misery snaking around her like a cloak. She knew. She knew Mrs Fraiser was taken. She knows she doesn't stand a chance. She knows her teacher doesn't return her feelings. She tries to shove the hurt down inside her chest. Tries to bury it under the conviction that knowing her teacher and her husband fuck doesn't change anything. She just wants to get her teacher pregnant. That's it. And, in that context, this is good, right? It means that if Niala has succeeded in impregnating Mrs Fraiser, there'll be no doubt in their minds that it isn't Mr Fraiser's kid. This is a good thing.

Still, as she stands there, alone in the closet with her shorts around her knees and her dick pulsing with the remnants of her orgasm, Niala can't keep the tears from falling.

Chapter Text

Niala sits at her desk at school. It's her desk, even though it's at the front of the class instead of the middle left side she's used to. Beside her is the same classmate as always. Michel is tapping away at his phone, uncaring of how Mrs Fraiser keeps looking pointedly in his direction. She's teaching at the front of the class, strolling back and forth in front of the whiteboard.

Niala's notebook is open in front of her.

West is seated to her left, looking sleepy but attentive. Niala isn't sure why she's here instead of in her sociology course.

The world outside the classroom window looks indistinct. It takes a moment to look through the fog and recognize the thin strip of woods outside her dad's house.

She looks back to the front of the classroom and Mrs Fraiser's blouse is sheer white. Her blue bra has slipped underneath it and the shadow of a dark areola is visible. It's right in front of Niala, and she can't help but look.

“This is going to be on the test next week, so pay attention,” her teacher says.

And Niala is laser focused, pen in hand as her teacher pulls the front of her blouse down, to expose her breast completely. It bounces with more force than the simple action can reasonably produce as Niala stares.

Everyone else in the classroom is a blurry fog, and Niala is in her gym shirt and Mrs Fraiser's panties. That's when she realises she's dreaming.

Curiously, the realisation causes the vision of Mrs Fraiser to sharpen. Her teacher's sheer blouse has the top buttons popped, her exposed breast pushed up by her bra, nipple dark and inviting. Her other nipple sticks out under the fabric of her shirt. Her skirt is dangerously short, smooth shaven brown thighs rubbing against each other as she walks towards Niala. They're so short that Niala can almost see a hint of pubic hair every time she takes a step, and she realises her teacher isn't wearing underwear because Niala is currently stretching them out with her dick.

Mrs Fraiser's breasts jiggle as she saunters forward, the click of her heels loud in the empty classroom. No, it's not empty. There are people lined up at the back. She doesn't turn around to look at them, but she knows they're there. Mr Fraiser and Grant's girlfriend and Niala's dad. They're stood at the back of the class like elementary school kids being punished, silent and watchful as Mrs Fraiser bends over Niala's desk, so low that her nipples press against the treated wood, and brushes her jaw with a finger before closing the gap and kissing her.

She tastes like peaches, and Niala is lost as a tongue brushes her bottom lip and her mouth opens to welcome her teacher in.

This is a dream, but Niala isn't in control of it. She's just along for the ride. So she's wonderfully pleased when she feels textured skin under her fingers and realises her dream self is tugging Mrs Fraiser's exposed nipple.

Mrs Fraiser touches her back, the hand at her jaw tracing a line down her neck before her finger gently passes through the divide between Niala's boobs. Wasn't she wearing a shirt earlier? But that doesn't matter. This is a wonderful dream and her teacher leans back, Niala following her drunkenly, pushing to her feet in an attempt to keep their lips together. Mrs Fraiser nips her upper lip before pulling away with a groan that has Niala shivering.

Her underwear is damp. But it's not sweat or cum she's feeling, it's the remnants of Mrs Fraiser's arousal from before Niala took her panties from her. Her dick is hard and thick and throbbing against the wet material. Niala has a passing thought about cumming in them before giving them back to Mrs Fraiser to wear, but this dream is too sweet to actively derail.

“You're my best student, Niala, so watch closely.”

And Niala is a great student, so she does as her teacher tells her to and watches with rapt attention as Mrs Fraiser pulls her skirt up over her hips and walks backwards. Turning around at the last moment to bend over the large wooden desk at the front of the classroom. The light in the room catches against the wet trail on her inner thighs.

Her hands reach around her backside to spread open the lips of her pussy, showing Niala her glistening pink center and the open hole between it all. This is a dream, so Niala can see straight into her teacher, that open hole full of rolling pink muscle weeping for Niala to fill it.

“You've done this before,” Mrs Fraiser says in a reassuring voice. And even though she's facing away, head to the whiteboard instead of the rest of the class, Niala hears her voice as if it's whispered right into her ear. “Believe in yourself, Niala.”

Niala is across the gap with Mrs Fraiser's panties around her thighs, gasping with desire as she pushes her meaty shaft into Mrs Fraiser's spread pussy. It's heavenly. Perfect. They fit together so well. And her dick slides up and in, deeper and deeper than ever before and Mrs Fraiser moans praises as she takes all of her.

Her teacher rocks into Niala's first thrust. And even though Niala can't see it she knows her teacher's exposed breast is compacted against the desk, pillowed under the weight of her body and pushing back and forth as her teacher moves with each perfect thrust.

Her pussy grips Niala just right, wet and warm muscles closely wrapped around her length and massaging it thoroughly with each thrust of her hips. Mrs Fraiser presses back into her enthusiastically, voice loud and unrestrained for everyone to hear how well they are together. Niala can feel her teacher's excitement running over her balls and down her thighs, dripping into the wet panties suspended between them.

“Give me everything,” her teacher begs, voice silky and dreamlike. Drunk on Niala's cock. Niala obliges, and the entire room smells like sex, the gazes of those standing shadows digging into her back as she fucks her teacher so hard that the heavy wooden desk scrapes against the tile floor. Mrs Fraiser goes limp, but she's not hurt or unconscious, she just doesn't have the strength to hold herself up anymore. She moans and gasps and shudders beautifully into an orgasm around Niala's dick, the walls of her cunt making tight, fluttering motions around the hard shaft.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say. And Niala is quite happy to fuck her through her orgasm and into the next. Her dick is hard as steel, rigid and inflexible with how turned on she is, her balls a heavy, swinging weight that feels ready to blow at any moment.

She feels the room shift and suddenly she's fucking Mrs Fraiser on the other side of the desk. She looks up and her dad and Mr Fraiser are both there; still stood at the back of the class. Hands by their sides and postures rigid. They can't do anything but watch, Niala knows. And she stares them down defiantly, unapologetic about who she is and unrepentant about what she's doing as her teacher moans with another orgasm, cunt clenching around her dick as she pleads for Niala to keep ravaging her.

Jem is stood in between them, but she's not as stiff as they are. Grant's girlfriend stands with her makeup a mess and her hair disheveled. Legs slightly spread apart. She's naked, leaning back against the wall like she needs the help to stand upright. Niala's cum drips from her pussy in large white globs that run down her bare thighs and pool between her feet on the floor.

It's way too much cum, Niala thinks. But she doesn't have it in her to care about whether or not the dream is realistic. And Jem is no one compared to the wonderful woman Niala wants to devote all her attention to.

Her dick swells and Mrs Fraiser gasps. Niala slows down her thrusts, changes from hard and aggressive to slow and grinding. For this last part, she fucks her teacher like a lover, hand wrapping around her waist to rub her teacher's slippery clit.

Her balls pull up tight and her body starts to tremble. Mrs Fraiser clamps down around her dick one more time, muscles slick and hot. And Niala thinks about how deep inside her teacher her dick is as her muscles tense and she finally cums.

She wakes up with the lingering vision of her teacher, bent over, shaking and full of cum. She didn't follow her dream self into an orgasm, but she can tell that she's close, her dick straining against her underwear. She can feel all the blood in her body pulsing between her legs. And all it takes is a few quick pumps for her hips to buck and wet, sticky cum to shoot from her dick all over hand and stomach.

She's left panting on her bed, blinking in a daze as hazy portions of the dream flick across her thoughts. She’s already forgotten so much of it. But the feeling of Mrs Fraiser wet and wanting around her dick still lingers.

She has her things to start packing, she remembers. Still, it takes a while for her to get out of bed.

Chapter Text

Niala walks up the steps with more hesitation than she felt the first time she snuck into Mrs Fraiser's home. Everything is quiet as she climbs, the house seemingly still. And yet her shoulders remain tense, her ears primed for the slightest hint of noise.

She takes her time, pacing her steps as she checks door after door for the presence of anyone who might be awake. She doesn't relax until she’s standing in front of the entrance to the master bedroom. So far nothing has stood out as being out of the ordinary. This is it.

In less than twelve hours, she leaves for TAsseT. Most of her bags are already packed. Just after midday, her mom will drive her to the train station, which will take her straight to the airport. If her flight runs on schedule she’ll be in Fort Gleston around nine at night.

The door to Mrs Fraiser's bedroom is solid under her fingers, a grounding presence that helps center her even as it bars the path to the woman she's come to say goodbye to.

Her feelings weigh her down, gluing her feet to the hardwood floor as she hesitates outside the closed door. Yesterday's harsh reminder lingers in her thoughts. This has never been more than a… a passing fantasy. No, a last ditch effort to satisfy her curiosity. To answer the question of what it would feel like to be closer to the woman she so desires.

Every night she sneaks into this house, she rolls a die with several possible outcomes. And she'd gotten lucky each time so far, landing on the ideal scenario of both residents being asleep and easily accessible. It had made her overconfident; her lucky streak had made it too easy to pretend that she belonged here, in this house at this time, between her teacher's legs. Yesterday, she had simply been unlucky. That's all. Of course Mrs Fraiser occasionally has sex with her husband. Who wouldn't want to sleep with her if they could? Especially when she's all dressed up for a graduation ceremony in a figure hugging dress that shows the length of her neck and the delicate curve of her shoulders.

They're married, of course they fuck!

She knows that. She's always known, though she had hoped otherwise. And hoping is fine but it's stupid for her to feel… to feel disappointed by the fact.

And I'm angry, she admits to herself, not for the first time. But each time it feels like a revelation. Why am I angry? Because she's hurt. Because for the first time ever Mrs Fraiser has hurt her, and it stings.

It's good that she's leaving tomorrow, moving far away and putting all of… this out of reach. She isn't supposed to grow attached. She isn't supposed to want more than she's already gotten, stealing Mrs Fraiser's pleasure and leaving her mark on the older woman's future.

And she's still standing outside the door like a vampiric prowler. Like she's scared of what she'll see when she steps inside.

Niala takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders before pushing open the door. It's a swift movement, absent her usual care, but she knows by now that the hinges won't squeal so it's fine. The room on the other side is as dark as the hallway, curtains pulled tight over the window, and they must have changed them because barely any light leaks through the fabric at all, whereas before, the faint glow of their neighbour's security lamp used to bleed through. Niala's eyes are well adjusted though, so she can just make out the two forms on the bed.

She doesn't bother closing the door as she walks over to Mrs Fraiser's side of the bed, feet sinking heavily into the soft carpet. For once her dick isn't already on its way to being hard. Her feelings shift in her stomach, curdling a mix of sadness, anger and resolve.

It's too dark to make out her teacher's expression, but as she stops by the bedside and looks down she can tell that her teacher is curled on her side, head on Mr Fraiser's outstretched arm. His fingers curl back towards her face as if reaching to caress his wife and Niala's anger spikes into something sharp and hateful before rapidly cooling into muddled disgruntlement.

It says something, probably about the level of her devotion – or maybe just her commitment, that even with her emotions in turmoil, not once had she considered not showing up tonight.

She takes several deep breaths as she strips, attempting to calm herself. But when she buries the anger all she feels is a painful, sorrowful longing that builds up in her throat like a trapped breath. And anger is much better than feeling pressed between screaming and crying, so it bubbles back up again in her gut, hot and spiteful. Directed at her teacher and herself and Mr Fraiser and the universe itself for constantly screwing her over.

It's not fair. Her life has never been fair.

Her hand shakes as she pulls down the sheet hiding her teacher's body. Her other hand presses down on her teacher's shoulder – lightly at first, and then more firmly once she feels her Talent lock into place. Mrs Fraiser is in a white camisole, the light colour reflecting what little light is in the room to stand out against her teacher's skin. The thin material flowing like silk over the curves of her teacher's upper body.

Niala takes a moment to tug absently at the thin strap that's fallen over her teacher's shoulder before carefully climbing onto the bed, hands shifting to maintain contact with her teacher and her husband. She feels her Talent settle into Mr Fraiser as she straddles his wife’s side, kicking the sheets further down and out of the way so her balls brush against warm skin.

Pushing her teacher over onto her back is easy, Mrs Fraiser following the press of the hand on her shoulder as she sighs and shuffles sleepily into a comfortable position under Niala's looming form. It reduces the space Niala has for her left knee, forcing it to press up against Mr Fraiser's side, but that just means better contact to keep him sleeping while freeing up her hands for other uses. And having her teacher on her back is worth the minor discomfort of having her knee lodged between the two bodies. She looks peaceful as Niala stretches to turn on the bedside lamp, and Niala feels some of her anger settle into a distant simmer as she looks down at her teacher.

It's better – healing – to see Mrs Fraiser like this, comfortable and relaxed under Niala's watchful gaze, instead of imagining her bent over on the end of her husband's cock.

She really is beautiful. Her dark hair pulling free of a messy braid, loose strands on her cheek and following the curve of her jaw. Full lips that beg to be grazed with a gentle thumb. Eyebrows that speak to a natural, effortless perfection. She could have been a model, or an actress on her looks alone. Instead Mrs Fraiser has dedicated herself to teaching thankless teens. How can Niala ever really hold onto any anger against her? Mrs Fraiser doesn't deserve it. If she was awake she'd want Niala to talk about it, and Niala doesn't always open up to her teacher, but this might very well be their last meeting, so this time she does.

“I'm a bit angry at you, Mrs Fraiser,” she starts, her voice surprisingly gentle. She doesn't sound angry at all, but the feeling is still there under the surface. “You don't know it, but you hurt me yesterday.”

Her teacher is in a proper camisole tonight, and Niala has to lean forward to work it up the older woman's hips and over her breasts. They're perfect, as always; too big to really sit firmly on her chest, the soft fat and lax muscle forming shallow hills in the gaps between her fingers as she squeezes them. Her teacher's large nipples seem to beg for child-nurturing, the dark brown tips the perfect size for a baby to latch onto and feed from. Niala is ready to do her damnedest to make sure that child ends up being her own.

Her dick slowly twitches to life as she roughly squeezes her teacher's breasts. Not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough that Mrs Fraiser certainly would have startled awake if Niala's Talent wasn't keeping her blissfully asleep.

“I forgive you, because you didn't know I was there. Didn't know I was coming. But I'm still a bit angry. It's not fair to you, but I am,” she confesses. She starts moving her hands as she squeezes; sliding them upwards from the underside of the older woman's massive tits until her thumb and index finger close around her nipples. Copying a move she's seen in over a dozen massage porn videos. She doesn't have whatever oil they use to make Mrs Fraiser's skin look all shiny, but that's not the point of her doing this anyway.

“I'm sorry,” she continues, her voice hitching slightly on the words as she tugs her teacher's stiffening nipples on the next upward swoop, twisting them between her fingers before letting go and allowing her palms to run over them. “I know this is wrong. But I don't want you to forget me. I don't want us to become nothing to each other. I want us to stay connected.”

Her dick is getting properly hard now, the swelling, stiffening shaft tapping her teacher's stomach every time she leans forward. The pulsing beat of it matching the heat in her chest and her growing anger.

“So get pregnant, Mrs Fraiser. With my kid. Mine. Not-” She cuts herself off, but now that she's started, she can't stop, and her feelings spill out of her mouth as she pulls harshly on her teacher's nipples.

“Don't fucking spread your legs for him until I'm done with you. Don't jump on his dick like a desperate whore and ruin what I'm trying to do.

“Fuck him as much as you want when I'm gone but when I'm here,” her breath hitches. “When I'm here, you're mine.”

Her teacher, of course, doesn't respond. Can't respond. But the anger builds in Niala anyway, and her hands shake with how much she has to hold herself back from transferring that anger to her handling of her teacher's breasts. These nights have been so special and Mrs Fraiser ruined it yesterday. Why?

She knows she's being irrational, but she doesn't care. Mrs Fraiser had hurt her yesterday. Hurt her after two years of being Niala's biggest supporter. Hurt her so casually after smiling at her so sweetly during graduation. Niala is shaking so bad she has to stop, pulling her hands into fists against her thighs. It hadn't even been intentional. If it had been on purpose – if Mrs Fraiser had known Niala was there, and had made all those sounds specifically so that Niala could listen in, then it wouldn't have been as bad. No, it would have been special. A moment they shared. An acknowledgment.

An invitation.

She looks down at her teacher, at her delicate lashes and how they naturally flare out at the ends, at the short wispy hairs that curl along her brow, lining her much longer tresses. She wasn't angry yesterday, when she'd stumbled into the adjacent room and listened in on her teacher having sex through the wall. But she’s angry now, just a bit. Has stewed in her feelings as she was packing her life into two suitcases. She'd taken the time to think about how she wanted to spend her last night. So she has a plan. And being just a bit angry makes it easier to ignore the risks and the logical part of herself that says not to as she shuffles up her teacher's waist until her dick hovers above the valley between the older woman's breasts.

Her anger hasn't done anything to halt Niala's arousal. If anything, it's encouraged it on, her dick growing hard quickly as she thinks to make the lesson stick with her teacher, in her body if not her mind.

She grabs each mountainous tit, squeezing them firmly one last time before pushing them together until her dick is sandwiched in between them. The warm flesh closing around the length of her shaft, so big that Niala can feel their weight pressing down on her and the only part of her dick still visible is less than an inch above her bush.

She's avoided doing something like this all this time, worried about the mess it might cause. Worried she might squeeze too hard in her enthusiasm and leave her teacher to wake up bruised and unusually sore in the morning. But those concerns seem frivolous now, overly cautious. It's her last night, she can be a little more daring. And if Mrs Fraiser wanted her consideration she shouldn't have stung Niala so badly. If anything her teacher should feel it when she wakes up, as penance for fucking someone who sure as shit didn't deserve it.

Niala winces as the thought crosses her mind. Suddenly feeling guilty. She doesn't mean that. Well, yes, Mr Fraiser is one lucky asshole because his wife is leagues and above too good for him. But she doesn't mean that thought about Mrs Fraiser deserving to hurt for what she did.

She doesn't owe me anything, Niala scolds herself. It's important for her to hold that acknowledgement in her head, she thinks. If she starts thinking she deserves everything she's taken from Mrs Fraiser, she's probably going to go crazy and turn into a serial rapist or something. She ignores how the thought of fucking dozens of women without them knowing causes her dick to throb between Mrs Fraiser's breasts. It's not what she wants for her future.

The break in her thoughts causes her to slow down. Her feelings calming to a dull ache as she looks down at the bunched up flesh between her hands, squeezing them momentarily with her thumbs. Then relaxing her grip so that they naturally fall apart again. Her dick springs up the moment it's no longer covered, bobbing slightly as it protests the cooler air outside its temporary nest. It's well and truly erect now. Extended to its full length with the pink head swollen and fully unsheathed.

Niala turns her attention back to the breasts she loves so much. Remembers all the weeks spent fantasising about what they would look like uncovered, what they would feel like in her hands, around her dick. The naive hope she used to have that if she was a good enough student, was polite and eager and helpful – if she got in shape and wore makeup and smiled at her teacher just right, that Mrs Fraiser would one day look at her with curious interest. Niala has had so many daydreams of Mrs Fraiser hiking up her skirt and telling Niala that she wants her too. Now here Niala is anyway, ostensibly because of a Talent she initially dismissed as useless.

She presses down on Mrs Fraiser's nipples with her thumbs as she thinks about how far she's come. They've gone soft again because of how much Niala's attention has been diverted, and she flicks them with her thumb, circling them this way and that until they start to harden once more, ignoring the demanding throbbing of her fully awake dick.

This is the last time she's going to get to look at these breasts. She looks up at Mrs Fraiser's face, her gentle features – the elegant nose, the full lips, peaceful in sleep, and feels her anger finally completely fade to stinging disappointment as she acknowledges that this is it. This is the end of it. After this, she has to move on.

“I'm going to miss you,” Niala whispers. Mrs Fraiser's breasts are soft under her fingers, the nipples pushed upwards as she squeezes. They feel familiar, for all she's only had access to them for just over a week. Her dick twitches to the beat of her pulse, so hard it nearly points directly upwards, all the veins standing out along the sides. When she leans forward, puts a bit of weight onto her occupied hands, she feels the tip knock against her own stomach.

She wants… everything. She wants Mrs Fraiser to suck her dick and take it down her throat. Wants to cum on her breasts. Wants to turn her around and make love to her from behind. Wants that impossible dream of fucking her teacher in the classroom at school, the two of them sequestered away on the second floor like secret lovers, with the light pouring in the window and door locked with the deadbolt. But most of all, she really really wants to fuck her teacher's massive tits.

So that's what she gets down to, pushing both mounds together over her dick so the soft flesh presses against the hard shaft, covering it completely. And it's great, because Mrs Fraiser's breasts are large enough that Niala doesn't have to sit her dick deep in the valley between them in order to get full coverage. Instead its held between both mounds, the flesh moulded around the thick rod so Niala can feel Mrs Fraiser curving around her, both above and below her swollen dick.

When she starts thrusting her hips back and forth, the dry skin drags against her dick, pulling at her foreskin. And it's like the time Niala fucked her teacher's thighs, not as smooth and tantalising as she expected, except for the way her teacher's breasts press and rub her exposed head. Thankfully, Niala already learned the fix to this. Mrs Fraiser probably isn't wet enough for Niala to use her arousal as a lubricant, so she takes another cue from porn and uses her own spit, releasing one breast to quickly pump her dick a few times to coat it before going right back to working her dick between both mounds. It's immediately better and she bites her lip as she speeds up her movements, feeling the glutes of her ass tighten with each forward thrust. Pulling her dick nearly completely free on each backswing before forcing the flesh to part as she rapidly thrusts back in, her balls swinging into the underside of both boobs with the muffled slaps of skin meeting skin.

She stares at both breasts as she moves her hips back and forth. Feels the weight of them against her hands as gravity tries to pull them flat. Shifts her fingers every now and then to enjoy the feel of them, running her thumbs over the puffy nipples to keep them hard and aroused. She's doing this for herself, but she wants Mrs Fraiser to feel good too.

Even held in place by her grip around them, the skin jiggles with each thrust of her hips, the towering nipples waving at her when they aren't being restrained by her thumbs. The harder Niala thrusts into them, the more they move, the nipples swinging forward and back like they're in a party all their own. And all the while Niala's dick pulses between her legs, growing heavier with need as the feel of her teacher's breasts pressing down on them drives her to keep going.

She has to pause to quickly spit on her palm and rub it around her shaft in quick pumps twice more as the spit dries out. Each pump of her fist driving her perilously close to orgasm as she looks down at her teacher's exposed body. And- fuck. The camisole is in the way.

Every bit of blood in her body gathers in her protesting dick as she pauses to tug the camisole further up her teacher's chest. Pulling her arms through one by one so it's easier to slide over her head. Her movements hurried so she can get back to treating herself to what she's wanted to do for months. When it finally pulls free around Mrs Fraiser's head, tussling her hair and messing up her braid even more in the process, Niala flings it to the side without caring about where it will end up.

Gods but Mrs Fraiser is beautiful. Gorgeous really. Her thrusts this time are a slow grind, her hands tight around her teacher's breasts as she builds herself back up, savouring the feel of them around her dick, relishing in the thought of what Mrs Fraiser will look like when Niala cums all over her. She's already decided that tonight is the night to be a little reckless. And Mrs Fraiser might not owe her anything, but that doesn't mean that Niala won't treat tonight as if she does. It's her last night after all. She's allowed to be selfish.

The press of warm skin around her heated rod drives her forward. And it's not just the feel of what she's doing that's spurring on her pending orgasm; after all, Mrs Fraiser's pussy still feels the best around her dick, with her mouth as she swallows a close second and this ranking maybe third. But if there's a part of her teacher's body she's always adored – before even knowing what her wet pussy felt like clenching around her as she orgasmed – then it was without a doubt her teacher's breasts. And now she finally gets to fuck them. It's without her teacher knowing, but she's fucking them. And Mrs Fraiser is enjoying it, her head turning against the sheets as Niala strokes and presses down on her nipples. Sleepy hums escaping her closed lips as she does. Every now and then Niala feels the sheet on the bed shift as her teacher's legs move, restless. She'd probably be wet between her legs if Niala checked. And that turns her on even more.

Her dick feels strained as she holds back her orgasm, the leaking tip marking the sides of both mounds as they close around it, doing a much better job than her spit of making it so the long shaft slides with ease between the mountains of soft skin.

Every new thrust has Niala threatening to blow her load. She could have cum minutes ago but she's been holding herself back, wanting to live in this rare moment for as long as she can. Her fingers flex against the sides of her teacher's breasts, massaging them even as she uses them to fulfill her own fantasy. Each thrust of her hips pushing up against the underside of her teacher's breasts so that her balls press up against them and her leaking tip only just peeks out from beyond Mrs Fraiser's cleavage. Leaving a wet spot right at the apex of the triangular divot.

The little wet pool reminds her of the pendant of a necklace, hung low between her teacher's breasts. And the realisation that her cum can do the same, can act as a gifted necklace her teacher proudly wears, finally rends all control from her, tipping her over the edge. Her hips snapping forward as her hands squeeze down in an almost bruising grip, until the pink head of her dick is visible on the other side of her teacher's breasts.

Niala forces her eyes to stay open as thick ropes of white cum surge out of her shaft. Each gut shaking throb feeling like a powerful pull that drags more cum out of her, launching it through the air and onto her teacher's neck, the underside of her chin, her collarbone. One shaking strand goes wide and fuck if it's not hot that Niala's cum is in Mrs Fraiser's hair, even if she has to make sure to clean it up later. A final pulse tugs her hips forward, her grip on her teacher's tits slipping slightly in her sweaty palms so her dick pops up midway through firing another load, and the strand of cum arcs high before falling on her teacher's nose, dead center on the bridge of it before sliding off the side and over a nostril to cross the corner of her lips.

The sight has Niala shaking, a weak spurt shooting only a few inches from her dick, letting a glob of white pool in the dip of Mrs Fraiser's collarbone. It's the necklace she wanted; all it's missing is the chain. She grins. It's the hottest thing Niala has ever seen.

She leans back, pulling her hands away from her teacher's chest and breathing heavily in the still room. Mind almost blank, she only just remembers that it's not just her and Mrs Fraiser in this room as she dimly registers the sound of Mr Fraiser's deep snores. When she looks to her left, her calf is pressed against his hip, her knee still digging into his side. Vaguely, she registers that if Mrs Fraiser hadn't been curled up so close to him that Niala's knee barely fit between them, then she probably would have lost contact with the annoying man.

That's how forgettable you are, she thinks mockingly before shaking her head with a softly panting sigh. She can't afford to dismiss him so easily. It's just as important that she keeps him asleep alongside Mrs Fraiser. She needs to be better about being aware of her contact with him. Tonight is her last night. She can't afford to fuck everything up right at the end.

Properly chastised, she leans her head back, closing her eyes as her body starts to ease off the high of cumming.

I came on her face, she thinks, and can't help the smile that spreads across her lips. I fucked her boobs and came on her face and her body responded as if she loved it.

Gods, they really could have been perfect together if Mrs Fraiser wasn't such a good person.

Speaking of her teacher's arousal, Niala shouldn't let all that build up go to waste. She opens her eyes with a steadying breath, holding the chill air in her lungs for five counts in order to clear the post orgasmic fog in her head. Then slowly works her way down Mrs Fraiser's body.

Her eyes lazily trace the lines of cum she left as she crawls backwards on her hands and knees, making sure to slide her leg, then her hand along Mr Fraiser's body to keep in contact. It's started to drip and pool along her skin. The line on her nose thinning out as it spreads down the right side. A new thinner line forming between her closed lips as the thick drop at the corner snakes between them. If she opened her mouth in a sleepy moan, she'd be tasting Niala in her dreams. Niala's spent dick jumps slightly at the thought.

The strands that had hit her neck and the underside of her jaw form messy, dripping lines, following the curve of her skin. And the space between Mrs Fraiser's breasts is shiny with Niala's pre as she draws eye level with it. Smeared on the inner curve of both mounds with a dotted line down the center. Drying streaks tell the story of the passage of Niala's dick, which twitches weakly at the reminder.

She really did leave Mrs Fraiser a mess. Something she'll have to clean up, and having that thought as her eyes drift down to the prize hidden under her teacher's underwear gives Niala an idea.

Ever since she discovered she has a thing for the older woman’s panties, she's found herself desiring to fill them with her cum. She's even done just that a couple of times over this past week. Whether in the pairs she's borrowed or while Mrs Fraiser was still wearing them. Even now the desire is still there, rising up from the well of her thoughts as she considers the garment sitting snugly around the older woman's hips.

She sits back on Mrs Fraiser's thighs and runs a hand across the front of the checkered blue and white fabric, feeling the curls of the hair underneath and then pressing down between her teacher's lower lips to rub the thin material into her pussy. Her dick stirs between her legs, but it's still not ready to go another round, so she ignores the feeling building low in her gut.

It doesn't take long before Niala's pressing rubs has Mrs Fraiser's juices bleeding through the material to cover the tips of her fingers. And Niala feels the familiar pride at the acknowledgement that Mrs Fraiser enjoys what they do together.

She won't cum in Mrs Fraiser's underwear tonight. Mostly because she wants to make sure the rest of her spend is working towards the baby she wants them to make together. It's something she decided before even stepping foot out of her house. She'd have one selfish orgasm wherever she wants, within reason, and then the rest of her time would be spent in aim of her true goal.

But that doesn't mean that her cum can't end up in the thin fabric sitting so snuggly around her teacher's hips anyway. Afterall, there's an excess of the stuff currently on her teacher's body.

Niala smiles to herself as she continues to work her fingers between her teacher's legs. Feeling as the damp area she's pressing down on spreads and grows more saturated, the fluid bleeding through sticky against her fingers. Mrs Fraiser shifts underneath her, legs opening a bit wider to give her more room to work, her left arm swinging up along the sheets so her hand rests just under her turned chin. Niala strokes up and down the length of her pussy and watches her teacher's stomach muscles flex as a low humming moan filters free of her lips. When Niala looks up, her teacher's mouth is open, the thin line of still wet cum lining the middle of her upper lip as a long, pale white line drops from the side of her nose to run across her downturned cheek.

“That's right, Mrs Fraiser. Just leave everything to me,” Niala murmurs, her voice light and encouraging despite the burn in her chest. “I'll make you feel way better than he ever could.”

She pulls at the seat of the underwear, running her fingers underneath it to caress Mrs Fraiser's center directly, her dick slowly perking up to the silky smooth slide of her fingers against her teacher's pussy.

Mrs Fraiser is so wet already. It's so much more obvious without the underwear as a barrier. Niala's fingers are instantly coated in her teacher's arousal up to the cuticle of her nails, and the strong smell of her sex scents the air like a perfume uniquely Mrs Fraiser's.

Her middle and index fingers dip down to her teacher's entrance, spreading her plump lips wide for a moment and pushing the wet panties aside so Niala can bite her lip at the flushed pink center, before circling the quivering entrance to tease it. She doesn't push in despite the temptation, taking her teacher's low, throaty hum as her cue to slide those same fingers back up the length of her pussy until they're framing her clit. One on either side, rubbing it between them as they make short, alternating motions to slightly turn and twist and squeeze it. Mrs Fraiser loves it, her legs restless between Niala's spread thighs as her hips make short jerking motions into her touch.

Niala could bring her to orgasm like this, but the part of her that wants to get back at her teacher for yesterday rears its ugly head and she pulls away just as her teacher's thighs start to tense, pressing at Niala's own in an attempt to spread even wider, her entire lower body like a coiled spring in anticipation of her release. It's so very hard to pull away when all she wants to do is plunge her fingers between those juicy folds, but the sight of her teacher's hips reaching upwards in sudden frustration, begging for her to come back eases some of Niala's hurt.

Mrs Fraiser might not know how badly she wants Niala, but the proof is right here in the desperate lifting of her hips, trying to shove her pussy at Niala. Quite literally begging for her attention. It's comforting.

Niala shuffles further down on the bed on her knees to give herself more room, making sure to keep contact with Mr Fraiser as she goes. She pulls down Mrs Fraiser's panties, over her thighs and then knees. She bends Mrs Fraiser's legs, pulling them up from between her own and her teacher's toe ends up knocking against her half hard dick. An innocent touch that sends a spark of pleasure up her spine. Then she's pulling the soaked panties down the older woman's calves and free from her heels.

She holds it up to eye level with one hand, letting it hang between her fingers as she admires the thick, translucent goo stuck to the inside. Can't stop herself from holding it close to her nose to breathe in the salty-sweet scent, taking several deep breaths that has her dick twitching.

Gods, Mrs Fraiser smells so good. Each inhale floods her senses, filling her with warmth and burning desire. She breathes in and it lingers in the back of throat, touching the back of her tongue so her mouth waters. She breathes out and her dick pulses with her quickening heartbeat, quickly rising to its full length. She breathes in and her eyes half close so she can focus on just this. She has her teacher's panties in her hand, took them right off her hips and for a moment as her eyelids flutter she's in the older woman’s classroom holding them to her face as Mrs Fraiser watches. She breathes out and she's back in the bedroom, kneeled between her teacher's spread legs with the shine of her pussy visible between trimmed lips. Her dick begs for a warm grip.

She breathes in, and shifts the panty around in her hand to better brace it as she brings it closer, tongue out for a lick. Then another. And fuck, but she can't resist. Her other hand drops to her dick, and it's warm and throbbing in her grip. So hard it curls upwards as she strokes it. She'll do this just for a bit. Just enough to get her as ready as Mrs Fraiser currently is, she tells herself. She feels high and drunk and spoiled as she finally puts the seat of her teacher's underwear between her teeth to suck on the wet stain.

The taste of her floods Niala's mouth, heady and as rich as when she's eating her teacher out. Even stronger because it's not restricted to her tongue. It's her entire mouth that gets to experience this flavour that's wholly Mrs Fraiser. Salty and sweet with something heavier underneath. It swims in her saliva, the thick fluid peeling away from the material to slide over her tongue so she can feel the subtle weight of it. And Niala's hand moves back and forth on her pulsing length, twisting to brush her head with her thumb on each stroke.

Her eyes had closed at some point. When she opens them, it's to the sight of her teacher spread out in front of her, peaceful in sleep with Niala's cum on her face and neck, shiny strips dried between her breasts, and legs spread wide, right knee propped up on her husband's leg so she can show Niala her wet and waiting center with her clit winking up at her from its pulled back hood.

Fuck.

All her plans temporarily go out the window as she swallows the shallow pool of arousal from her teacher's panties and her strokes grow more urgent, pulling at her length in quick pumps. The smell from Mrs Fraiser's wet panties fills her nostrils in every breath until her breathing grows shallow. Her balls tensing up under her throbbing dick. The sight of her teacher, the smell of her, the taste of her arousal, the feel of Niala's hand – all of it comes together across her senses to make her hips jerk forward harshly as cum races up and out of her dick. Arcing high in the air before landing in messy lines on her teacher's inner thighs and – damningly – on the bed sheet between her legs.

She growls with the panties in her mouth as another load of cum shoots out of her dick, her mind just clear enough to aim slightly to the left, onto the meat of her teacher's thigh. But that's a mistake too because her aim isn't perfect and some of it overshoots and lands on the sheet on the other side, but at least most of it catches on the older woman's shapely thigh, and Niala is too high in the moment to really feel anything but a deep seated pleasure at being able to do this. To cum with her teacher's panties in her mouth with the woman in question undressed just for her.

The last bit of cum from her orgasming dick barely even arcs, landing on her own hand to drip over her fingers before she's once again a panting, sweaty mess.

She blinks her eyes clear, the fog lifting from her mind as she looks down at the stained sheet.

Well, fuck.

Actually.

No. Wait.

She blinks and it's like a switch in her mind flips on and finally registers what she just did. Her eyes widen as her shoulders tense.

Fuck.

She can't let it stain. She has to clean that up right now before it soaks in, but she doesn't have anything to wipe it away with except-

She pulls the underwear from her mouth, hands shaking with both panic and post-orgasm tremors as she folds it over to a dry section and rapidly wipes up the cum on the sheet. Wincing internally as the wiping motion pushes it down along the fabric, leaving wide smears as she scoops it up. Each time she lifts the panties away she has to flip them over to another clean section. And it's not perfect, but perfect would have been her not fucking cumming on the sheets, Niala.

The stains left behind feel accusatory, but as she wipes away the last white dollop beyond Mrs Fraiser's thigh, close to her hip, she at least takes solace in the fact that she was fast enough. The streaky marks barely even feel damp when she presses her finger to one, so it should dry before Mrs Fraiser wakes up. Maybe even before Niala leaves. She might have to wipe it again with a damp cloth to make sure it doesn't get stiff after drying. She knows all too well that dried cum can get kinda crusty. Maybe Mrs Fraiser and her husband would find the stiff patches and assume it's a remnant of their activities the night before. But maybe it will just make them suspicious. She can't risk it.

Niala groans as she throws back her head.

“That was so stupid!”

Hot, but stupid. What the fuck is wrong with her? It's like she gets a taste of Mrs Fraiser's panties and all sense goes out of her head. This is exactly why she had initially avoided cumming on her teacher's body. Sure, Mrs Fraiser looks absolutely, mouthwateringly gorgeous with the thin white lines crossing over her dark skin like jewelry Niala bought just for her. Sure, the idea that Mrs Fraiser is breathing in the scent of her cum as Niala fucks her full of the same is sexy as fuck. But none of that is worth shit if she leaves behind enough evidence to land her ass in jail.

She wouldn't even get the nice, normal jail! She's Talented, so even though her power is absolute shit she'd automatically get sent to Royker’s or St. Salisbury, where she won't even be able to take a dump without military grade assault turrets being ready to shoot her full of irradiated metal.

Just, fuck.

Her heartbeat slowly settles as she calms down.

Maybe she should call it. Her judgement tonight is clearly impaired. And coming twice has already taken a lot out of her.

That's another thing! Niala is well aware of her limits after so many nights with her teacher. Three orgasms in one session is her max without a long break afterwards. And she's usually too tired at that point to sit still and wait for the hour or two before she's ready to go again. Sex is fucking exhausting. She's had two orgasms tonight and none of them would work towards getting her teacher pregnant.

I wasn't supposed to be this self-centered, she thinks.

She can't trust herself. So maybe she should leave.

But it's her last night with her teacher.

Niala takes a deep breath and shakes off the weight of her self-reproach. She's not someone to leave things half-finished. She either does something all the way or not at all. She still has time to make up for her failings. Mrs Fraiser hasn't even gotten to come yet. Niala can't leave without at least giving something back to her teacher. After all, that's what this had all been about initially. Showing her appreciation and giving back to the teacher who gave her so much. Leaving her mark in a way her teacher will carry with her forever.

“I'm sorry, Mrs Fraiser.” Her words hang in the air, clear and sincere, her whole heart hidden in them.

Niala looks up at that sleeping face, wincing at the messy sheet of drying cum across her teacher's nose and cheek. It no longer looks like jewelry. “I'm sorry for being so self-absorbed.” She looks down at her hands. Her own cum feels slimy and gross between her fingers. “I'm sorry for coming here angry. You don't deserve it.”

She pauses, releases a shuddering sigh as she looks back up at her teacher's closed eyes. Wishing they were open. Knowing she wouldn't like the look in them if they were.

“I'm going to make you feel amazing, to make up for it. The rest of tonight will be all about you.

“Thank you, for always believing in me.”

Mrs Fraiser doesn't respond, but she shifts in her sleep, her knees knocking into Niala's thighs as she tries to turn onto her side. And that's good enough an acknowledgment for Niala. She knows in her heart her teacher would accept her apology with patient understanding. She doesn't need Mrs Fraiser to say the words.

First things first though. She needs to clean up the mess she made. There's still plenty of dry, clean space on the panties in her hand, so Niala gets to work cleaning up the cum on her teacher's thigh. It's spread out since the initial landing, thinning slightly as it dripped over both the inner and outer curves. Thankfully, it hasn't drained far enough to ruin her efforts to clean the bedsheet, not leaving her teacher's shapely thigh.

She ignores the wet curls of her teacher's pubic hair, her lower lips having closed slightly in the attempted roll onto her side, and wipes between the valley of her teacher's breasts. Most of the stain here has already dried, and she'll need to properly wipe it later with some soap and a damp rag, but that's something she had already expected. Her sagging dick drags over her teacher's navel as she leans forward on all fours to gently wipe at her teacher's neck face. Her dick isn't fully soft, but it's not all that hard either. She needs more time to recover her stamina. Lastly she wipes away the little bit of cum that had landed in her teacher's hair. Holding the strand up in the air so the rest of the now filthy panty doesn't transfer its stains into the messy braid.

Finally finished, there's barely any part of her teacher's underwear that isn't stained with her cum. And Niala huffs a laugh as she remembers her plan when she was initially taking these panties off of the older woman. Well, she got there in the end, her cum right where she wanted it, all over her teacher's underwear. If she hadn't already promised the rest of the night to her teacher, she'd consider propping her butt slightly off the bed as she put the panties right back on.

Her dick twitches weakly at the image of Mrs Fraiser; legs on both of Niala's shoulders, butt resting on Niala's thighs with her cum stained underwear snug around the older woman's hips. The seat pulled to the side as Niala enters her. If only she had one more night to make it real.

If she's lucky, maybe she'll get the chance to come back and make it happen.

There's nowhere safe to put the soiled panties, so Niala mutters a quick apology as she rests them in the cradle of her teacher's boobs, the white smears of Niala's cum hiding most of the checkered pattern, turning bright blue squares a murky, pale bluish-white. It feels a little disrespectful to do, using her teacher as a table like some common whore, but better they stay on Mrs Fraiser's body – which Niala will already need to clean – than on the bedsheets or carpet.

That taken care of, Niala lies down on her front, resting one hand against her teacher's thigh and using the other to grab Mr Fraiser's wrist to keep contact.

The evidence of her teacher's earlier arousal is still blatantly obvious between her spread legs, though her clit has retreated back under its hood. Glistening strings of the translucent, gel-like fluid stand out, tangled in the soft hairs around her cunt. Niala pushes two fingers between the gently closed lips and pulls them away to find a drooping string of it connecting her fingers to Mrs Fraiser's still wet pussy. And a wave of gratitude spreads in her chest at how patient her teacher has been with her. Her body ready and waiting for Niala to come back to it. She presses a kiss to her teacher's thigh in thanks. One that's long and lingering and turns into running her lips up her teacher's inner thigh, teasing higher and higher before alternating to the next leg. Her fingers don't stop moving between her teacher's legs, doing their damnedest to scoop up as much of her teacher's arousal as possible.

When Niala pulls her head back, her fingers are coated in a thick layer of it, and her dick pulses lightly at gooey lines between her fingers as she spreads them – another thick string hanging between the digits and her teacher's pussy like a mooring line. Niala makes circling motions with her fingers in the air to spool the thinning string of arousal around the digits. And it's so much nicer than the feel of her own jizz. Thinner, with a smell that stays sweet and enticing instead of turning bitter-sour like her cum does. When the string finally snaps, she reaches between the lips of her teacher's pussy, spreading it open to take in the sight of the rosy pink center, shiny with slick.

There's so much natural lubrication here that if Niala hadn't gotten distracted earlier she could have probably slid her dick all the way inside her teacher's cunt in one easy thrust. Now she has to work her teacher up again. Not that she's complaining about getting to finger her teacher with her face close enough to see every quiver of contracting muscle. She's just scolding herself for forcing Mrs Fraiser to wait so long for it.

Her fingers glide along the length of her teacher's pussy, back and forth over her entrance and circling her clit at the height of each stroke. The skin under her fingers soft and silky smooth to the touch. When her teacher's clit starts to react, growing less flexible under the press of her fingers, she switches to petting it like a very small puppy, stroking it up the length of its hood as she presses small, worshipful kisses to her teacher's inner thigh.

Mrs Fraiser becomes more active as she continues. Her sleepy sighs turning to gentle huffs as her clit creeps out of its hood and Niala touches it directly. The sudden jerk off her hips at that first touch nearly knocks Niala's hand back, but she's quick to recover, passing over the exposed bud to trigger another sudden jerk and a high cut off moan that might have been a squeal if her teacher was awake. It sets Niala's heart pounding in her chest, a staggered beat echoing between her legs.

Her teacher deserves an orgasm, more than one even, but good ones. And good orgasms take time to build, so she gives her teacher's clit a break, shifting her attention to the wide wings of her inner labia, pinching the left one between her thumb and index to pull it to the side and further expose Mrs Fraiser's center. It's her last night so Niala is sure to take everything in; the look, the smell, the feel, all of it. Even the taste still lingers sweetly on her tongue. The hole that marks her teacher's dearest treasure contracts slightly as she watches, flexing with a message that Niala can decide perfectly. The message is that Mrs Fraiser wants Niala to fuck her. And as her former student, Niala is happy to oblige, making one last pass over her teacher's clit before easing a finger into her entrance. Watching with rapturous silence as it opens up around her finger, swallowing it with ease into a heated blanket of soft muscle.

Her finger pushes all the way in on a single stroke, and her teacher's light moan and subtle shift as she moves it around inside her causes a light, airy feeling to swell in her chest. Her dick starts to harden against the sheets in an uncomfortable press, forcing her up on her knees with her ass awkwardly in the air. But she wants to keep her head close to her teacher's flushed and weeping pussy, so she ignores the weird feeling of presenting her ass to a non-existent audience. Focusing instead on the feel of textured flesh as she pulls out her finger and pushes in with two instead, trading her index finger for the longer middle and ring fingers instead.

Her teacher's vaginal opening stretches around both digits with ease, so she pushes her index finger back in alongside them, bunching the three digits together as she pushes in and then spreading them as far as the inner walls of Mrs Fraiser's pussy will allow. Curling them in a beckoning motion and shivering as her teacher moans and bucks her hips. Like that she starts to properly fuck the older woman, spreading her open around her fingers, thrusting into her with silent enthusiasm and being sure to rub her fingers over the spot that causes her teacher to grow more and more animated in her sleep.

She pushes herself up unto her elbow to take in the whole of her, and smiles triumphantly at her teacher's open mouth and heaving chest. Niala pushes things even further, lingering inside her on a long stroke to curl her fingers back and forth over what she's sure is her teacher's g-spot. Watching with smug confidence as the older woman stiffens, then shakes, then undulates in a wave – head thrown back into the pillow, chest pushed up and her nipples fully erect without even being touched, ass digging down into the sheets as if the pleasure is too much and she has to get away, before thrusting back up as her head turns to the side with a keening moan. Her thighs close around Niala's shoulders, trembling all the while.

She's completely hooked on Niala's fingers, falling apart in a building orgasm that Niala temporarily denies her by pulling her fingers all the way out. They're completely coated in her teacher's fluids, with white streaks showing the remnants of Niala's own cum. When she spreads them, multiple translucent threads tie them together like a poorly woven net.

Once her teacher's hips stop thrusting into the open air, her entrance still flexing open and closed with need, Niala rubs those same wet fingers in tight, harsh circles over her teacher's clit before pushing right back into her and thrusting them in and out for all she's worth.

Her dick pulses between her legs, loud and impatient, but Niala is determined to bring her teacher to orgasm like this first. And Mrs Fraiser is very close, her pleasure quickly building back up to prior levels as sleepy thrusts keep pace with Niala's fingers. Niala can see the fresh arousal pouring out of her entrance, squeezing around the little gaps left by her fingers, getting caught in her teacher's pubic hair and trailing down between the cleft of her ass cheeks.

The smell of Mrs Fraiser's arousal is so strong that Niala honestly can't smell anything else. She'll have to air out the room before she leaves. She twists her fingers as she works them in and out of her teacher's cunt, curling them and spreading them and circling them around in a senseless pattern between strokes, driving her teacher closer and closer to the edge in a tempo that matches the pulsing in her dick. The squelching sounds of her teacher's pussy mixing with her teacher's unconscious pants and moans in a melody only Niala controls. The wet muscles around her thrusting digits contract in fluttering pulses as her teacher's body freezes in place, and then suddenly her fingers are surrounded by a vice grip that forces them together as Mrs Fraiser's orgasm hits.

Niala could move them if she tried, but instead she leans her head down to kiss and lick at her teacher's clit. Feeling the grip around her fingers loosen and tighten several times in quick succession, and wiggling her trapped fingers just barely to keep her teacher's orgasm going.

Mrs Fraiser loves all of it. Hips making small thrusting motions onto Niala's fingers, trying to pull them deeper as she grinds her clit into Niala's open mouth. The moan her teacher releases travels straight to her painfully hard dick. And it's not the- it's not the same moan she heard yesterday through the wall. The pitch and inflection are all different. But that difference isn't bad, she decides. It's hers. It's the sound her teacher makes with Niala only. A sound her husband likely has never heard her make. Niala's heart swells as she realises how special that is, this secret sound she and her teacher share. And she curls her fingers into Mrs Fraiser's g-spot while increasing the pace of her light flicks over her clit until her teacher tips over into a second round of orgasmic contractions. This time her hips angling away from Niala's enthusiastic tongue as oversensitivity sets in.

She makes that lovely sound again, high and whining and cresting like a wave that crashes into a vibrating purr as her orgasm tapers off and Niala pushes herself back up onto her elbow.

She's going to miss this when she leaves. But leave she must. So it's time to get to the main event. Niala carefully pulls her fingers out of her teacher's still fluttering core, hushing her gently when Mrs Fraiser whines and shakes at the movement.

“This is it, Mrs Fraiser,” she says reverently, pushing up onto her knees and shuffling further into the space between her teacher's legs. Mr Fraiser's wrist a limp weight that she's forced to drag along. A glistening trail of fresh pre-cum runs down the side of her dick as it points upwards at an angle, crossing over bulging veins to disappear into her pubic hair.

Her teacher lies under her, ready and waiting with drying smears of poorly cleaned cum on her face and neck. Niala had tried her best, but there's only so much she could do without actual soap and water. The smell of sex hangs in the air, both of their scents mingling together in every breath that enters Niala's lungs.

She doesn't waste any more time, is about to maneuver her teacher into her usual place with her thighs braced over Niala's knees when she has a better idea. Touching Mr Fraiser's hairy leg with her toes so she can drop his hand and lift Mrs Fraiser's left leg up onto her shoulder. She holds it in place, swung high so her teacher's lower body twists towards her side, her still leaking pussy spread wide open. And uses her other hand to glide her dick between those flushed lips. Rubbing her head over the exposed clit and feeling her teacher's shiver run all the way through her raised leg, before sliding it down through the viscous, shiny mess and pushing into her open entrance.

“Let's make a baby together,” she whispers as she watches her teacher easily take in the head of her dick. Pink muscles stretching open to take in the paler pink, rounded head. It's bigger than her fingers but of course Mrs Fraiser takes it just as easily. Niala can feel the tremors running through her cunt, the older woman still sensitive from her back to back orgasms, but she still doesn't offer any resistance as Niala pushes in past the line of her foreskin, watching inch after inch of her shaft disappear as it splits her teacher wide open.

“Fuck,” she murmurs as the last inch disappears and they meet flush. And then louder, because she can. “You feel so good. Your pussy is perfect Mrs Fraiser.”

She pulls her hips back, watches the full length of her dick slide out of her teacher, now shiny with her slick, until only the very tip of her head sits inside her entrance. Then pushes in again, repeating the process that has Mrs Fraiser stretching open to accommodate her thickness. Feeling the heat of her envelop her dick on all sides and watching as the excess arousal coating her dick is scraped clean to stick in her teacher's pubic hair.

She could watch how they fit together forever, but the pounding in her dick pushes her to make her next thrust faster. And then the next one faster than that. Increasing her pace until the sound of their meeting skin is only drowned out by the wet sounds of her teacher's overflowing pussy.

Niala has both hands on her teacher's raised leg, holding it in place as her hips forward at a downward angle, pushing her teacher into the sheets. The ball of her foot presses against Mr Fraiser's leg to keep him asleep as Niala fucks his wife right next to his unaware body.

It's a shame she's never tried this position before. With it her dick reaches so deep inside her teacher. Each penetrating thrust sheathing her entire length inside convulsing walls that envelop her from tip to base. Surrounding her with wet heat from every direction to make her feel at home in their final night together.

“Thank you,” Niala pants. Listening to the little huffs and moans that accompany every forward swing of her hips.

“Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for caring for me.”

She shifts to hugging Mrs Fraiser's leg to her chest, her arms and shoulders growing tired from holding up that weight. Holding it to her chest is easier, slotting right between her breasts with her teacher's heel hovering next to her right ear.

Niala blows a loose strand of hair out of her face, feeling herself start to sweat. All of her attention focuses on the growing heat in her swollen dick. How incredibly full she feels despite emptying her balls twice already. This is going to be a big load, she can tell.

Her dick slides in and out of her teacher's pussy easily, but the grip of her inner walls is just right. The way she massages Niala's length as she's fucked the surest indication that while Mrs Fraiser might not be an outright slut, she is a slut for Niala. Just Niala. She refuses to believe Mr Fraiser is as capable as a lover. Not with the gentle fat on his arms and the lack of adoration in his eyes whenever Niala saw them at school. Of course he fucks his wife – Mrs Fraiser is gorgeous – but Niala fucks her better. And she proves it as she feels her teacher tighten in an all too familiar hold around her dick, pussy and thighs quivering with her third orgasm, and fucks her through it.

No stops. No breaks. When Niala is focused, she can hold her own orgasm back long enough to ensure her teacher has the best experience possible. Every throb of her slick shaft serving as a driving force to push through the tightening corridor and ignore the building pressure at the base of her dick.

Mrs Fraiser's breasts move with her rocking body, bouncing around on her chest with slightly circular motions because of the way Niala is angling her thrusts into her. The sway of her nipples are hypnotising and Niala stares unabashedly, her own chest heaving from the effort of keeping her pace steady.

She can feel Mrs Fraiser's wetness against her own thigh and she groans, low and deep as she bows her head and keeps working her hips back and forth. She's going to fuck her teacher so well that anything she does with her husband afterwards will feel underwhelming. Mrs Fraiser won't know why she feels disappointed, but her body will. Niala's dick throbs an agreement, the sudden pulse so much stronger than the others before it that Niala's rhythm stutters, her eyes squeezing closed as she forces herself not to blow her load just yet, stifling the pressure rising up her dick through sheer willpower before continuing to fuck her teacher with short, determined thrusts. Barely pulling out halfway before snapping her hips forward to bury herself home and repeating the motion.

When she opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is the cum stained panties between her teacher's large breasts. Situated right where Niala left them as a representation of their mixed desire.

So what if this is wrong. It's done out of love. And people do bad things for good reasons all the time and get praised for it, or pardoned after the fact. And Mrs Fraiser loves this. Loves Niala's fingers and tongue and dick. So what if it's wrong, when only Niala will remember.

“I'm going to blow this load so deep in your pussy you'll have twins.” And it's a ridiculous statement but at this point Niala is sure she can make it happen. “You're going to be so full of cum you won't have any choice but to have my babies.”

She's nearing her limit, she can tell. Her balls tight with the effort of not coming, her dick feeling painfully swollen as it begs for release inside her teacher's perfect cunt. Mrs Fraiser squirms underneath her, her pussy probably overly sensitive from having three orgasms so closely together. But Niala's Talent keeps her sleeping and her pussy – as overworked as it is – continues to accept Niala without protest. As eager for their promised child as Niala is.

“You'll look beautiful pregnant. I can't wait to see it.” She's speaking through clenched teeth now, every muscle in her body strung tight. Her abs straining with the effort of keeping her hips moving when her dick just wants to slam itself home and stay there. “Take lots of pictures for me,” she groans. “Don't forget me.”

She feels the familiar rolling flutter of her teacher's cunt that usually precedes her orgasms, and takes that as her cue to finally let go. Cum explodes out of her dick. So much of it all at once that her body shakes with the force of it, her hips snapping forward to ram herself as deep as possible. Mrs Fraiser shakes alongside her, an airy moan escaping her open mouth as her pussy clamps down around Niala's heavily pulsing rod, the feel of Niala's spend rocketing against her inner walls triggering her fourth orgasm for the night. The most Niala has ever given her.

They hang in that moment. Locked together by their burning centers as Niala gives and Mrs Fraiser receives. Niala feels each pulse as it travels up her dick to send more cum shooting deep into her teacher's pussy. Her stomach clenching each time as it draws on something deep inside her. Mrs Fraiser pants openly, her cunt slowly relaxing around Niala's still hard shaft even as it continues to twitch and splatter her inner walls. It's the hardest Niala has ever come in her life.

By the time Niala comes down from the high and her dick starts to soften, Mrs Fraiser is back to a peaceful rest. Barely reacting outside of a weak flutter of her cunt as Niala pulls out her dick and slowly lowers the older woman's leg.

Her teacher's pussy gapes open a bit, taking a while to return back to its usual size, and Niala watches as the pink muscle inside rises up and pushes out a wide bead of white cum.

She can't help but chuckle at the sight. She really did fuck her teacher full of her cum if some of it is being pushed out this easily. Still…

“Don't do that, Mrs Fraiser,” she scolds lightly. Scooping up the dripping cum with her fingers and pushing it back into her teacher's entrance, not stopping until her fingers are as deep as they can go. She curls her fingers reflexively as soft muscles press around them and her teacher's peaceful rest shatters, her entire body flinching as her overworked core flutters wildly.

“Shhh,” Niala whispers. Rubbing a hand over her teacher's stomach in soothing motions. “You're alright. You're okay.”

She holds her fingers very still and continues to rub her teacher's stomach, hoping her sperm is doing its job in her teacher's ovaries, until Mrs Fraiser's tremors calm back down and her inner walls barely flex around Niala's fingers. Then she very carefully pulls her digits free, going as slow as she can to not set the older woman off again. She deserves her rest after all of that.

Niala watches her teacher's pussy closely, but no more cum leaks out, and that's good enough to satisfy her for now. She's honestly tempted to finger Mrs Fraiser one last time, but she's already been playing it close with how much her teacher will feel their night time activities when she wakes.

Niala is still breathing heavier than normal. Her shoulder is a bit sore, and she can feel exhaustion creeping in now that she's not actively doing something.

Alright, she thinks. This is goodbye for real.

Something in her chest aches at the thought, but it's a dull ache. She's done everything she wanted to do and has the rest of her life ahead of her.

The only thing left is to cool off and clean up. So that's what she does, running her fingers down Mrs Fraiser's thighs as she kneels on the bed, humming random songs to keep herself awake. She’ll keep the ruined panties as a momento, she thinks, and wash them at home.

Neither Mrs Fraiser nor her husband wake up when Niala finally crawls backwards off the bed, her fingers drifting away from their toes at the last possible moment. Neither of them wake as she's cleaning up either; wiping her teacher clean with a damp rag and opening the window for a bit to let cool air flow through the room, clearing out the heavy smell of sex. She dresses her teacher in her camisole and fresh panties, and soon enough Niala is closing the backdoor behind her and hopping over the fence.

She almost falls asleep on the bus ride home, her thoughts drifting between imagining the future and replaying the sounds of her teacher's moans in her head. Every now and again she has to blink back tears, feeling sadness and regret and even sometimes, a tiny bit of guilt. She keeps reminding herself that she hasn't hurt anyone but maybe herself these past two weeks, so she has nothing to feel guilty about.

She regrets not bringing her phone along though. Her reasons for leaving it at home make sense, but it's a tragic loss that she'll only have her memories to remember these nights by. That and hopefully a couple baby pictures in a few months.

Heartbreak, huh, she smiles ruefully at her reflection, remembering West's word for what she's feeling. And yes, it hurts. But listening in on Mrs Fraiser and her husband had been worse.

If Niala can survive that, then she'll survive this too.

Chapter Text

Niala pauses the lecture she's rewatching as her phone rings. Leaning back with a smile at the familiar ringtone that tells her West is calling. It's been a bit since she spoke to her best friend. Maybe a week? She answers on speaker and before she can even exclaim a greeting West's hurried voice fills the room.

“Hey, hello. How are you? All the standard greetings. Have you spoken to Grant recently?”

Niala blinks, taking a moment to decipher the barrage of words shooting rapid fire through her phone's speakers.

“Uhhhh. Hey. Um. No?”

“Do you have me on speaker?” Oh, that's West’s serious mom voice.

“Yes…”

“Take me off speaker. This needs to be private.”

There's no one else in her room but Niala does as West asks anyway, putting the phone to her ear.

“What's wrong with Grant?”

“Jem’s pregnant.”

Niala's thoughts freeze abruptly, her full focus snapping to what West just said.

“What?”

“She told me herself. It's not a rumour. Barely anyone else knows, so don't go spreading it around.”

“Wait,” Niala sits up in her chair. “Wait a second.” Jem. Valedictorian Jem. Stick up her ass – wants to go into politics, Jem. And she was keeping it quiet but had told West of all people? “She told you? I didn't know you guys were that close.”

There's a brief pause before West's voice comes through, softer than before. “Our families go to the same church. I've known her since we were 5. We would cover for each other when the sanctimonious bullshit got to be too much.”

“Oh,” Niala stupidly responds. Her mind is still stuck on the fact that Jem of all people is pregnant. Wait…

“We're not really friends. We don't hang out or anything. I just… I think that out of all the people she's close to, she knows I'm the least likely to freak out or judge her for it.”

“Right,” Niala says distractedly. “That makes sense.” Is this her doing? She had slept with Jem… she counts the weeks between Grant's party and now in her head. Holy shit it lines up.

West interrupts her dazed thoughts. “So Grant hasn't said anything to you?”

“N-no. Nothing.” There's no way Niala got Jem pregnant after just one night. No fucking way. It has to be Grant's. “Were they… expecting it?” Gods, it's such a stupid question, but she has to know.

“No, she was kind of a mess when we spoke. Held it together until I awkwardly congratulated her and then completely broke down into tears.”

“... You congratulated her?”

West’s voice is filled with petulant embarrassment as she responds. “I didn't know what else to say, okay. It took me by surprise.”

Niala huffs a laugh in disbelief.

So Jem wasn't expecting to get pregnant. Which meant she and Grant had been taking precautions. But that doesn't mean the kid is automatically Niala's. Sometimes protection fails.

Holy shit she might be a mom.

“Anyway! You should probably check in on Grant. You guys used to be best friends after all. Jem said he hasn't answered her calls since she told him.”

“I… yeah.” Niala can't think of anything else to say. Holy fuck, Grant. She'd fucked his girlfriend but she hadn't planned on derailing his life by saddling him with a kid.

This means that if Mrs Fraiser is pregnant she’d be finding out about now, if she doesn't know already.

It's completely the wrong time, but Niala's dick twitches at the thought of her old teacher being pregnant with her baby.

She's getting ahead of herself. Jem and Grant had probably just gotten careless and Jem was too embarrassed to admit it.

There's nothing to say that baby is mine.

“I'm serious, Niala. He could probably use a friendly ear.”

She refocuses on the conversation.

“No… I mean- Yes, of course. Definitely.” Her heart races in her chest. “It's just. Jem being pregnant? Holy shit, you know?”

“Yea,” West responds, and for a moment her own disbelief echoes through the phone. “I know.”

The conversation peters out from there and Niala manages to get her thoughts together enough to be a good friend and ask about how West is doing. Not being as up-to-date on her friend's day to day life is still weird, and it makes her sad when she realises that she's getting used to it. She supposes that's what happens when you go to universities with an actual national border between them.

After hanging up, her thoughts drift back to the idea of Jem possibly having her baby.

Does she know, Niala wonders. Jem had been so drunk that night. She hadn't said anything the next day either, had acted the same as always, a bit cold and distant and vaguely condescending.

What if she does?

Her dick hardens at the thought and Niala absentmindedly pets herself through her jeans.

Everything Niala knows points to Jem not remembering her night time dick riding at all. It had seemed so obvious that Niala hasn't even thought of that night after leaving Miben. She would have said something otherwise, right? Threatened Niala or sworn her to secrecy or told Grant or something. But what if she had known and was too embarrassed to bring it up?

Fuck. Skinny jeans was the wrong thing to wear today, not that Niala could have predicted this. Her dick strains against the stiff material, excited by the thought of Jem knowingly carrying her baby while dating Grant; feeling the shame of one drunken mistake. Jem's pussy had been really tight, hadn't it? Fitting her dick inside her had been a struggle. And now the bitch was pregnant.

Niala hurriedly unzips her pants, reaching into her underwear to free her dick and the palpable relief has her sighing and leaning back in her chair. She's already so swollen, a circle of pink peeking out from her retreating foreskin, a growing bead of pre-cum at her tip.

And it's fucked, that this turns her on so much. It's really really fucked. But if Jem is pregnant with her baby… She grabs a bottle of lube from the desk drawer and squeezes some into her hand, tossing the bottle carelessly across the desk as she wraps her hand around her dick and starts to slowly stroke it. Will Jem keep the baby? Or get an abortion? She's apparently a church girl, Niala hadn't known that. Apparently her family is religious, so she might be pressured into keeping it. It- the baby. The baby Niala might have put in her. A shiver passes down her spine.

Her dick stiffens further, growing fully erect as she imagines Jem, stomach large with a growing child.

Her mind argues back and forth as she strokes the thick shaft with growing enthusiasm. It's not her kid, but it could be. Jem doesn't remember their night together, but she might. Maybe Niala should pay her a visit in a few months, before she gives birth. Remind herself what Jem's tight pussy felt like before it stretches out during childbirth. But pussies are supposed to be resilient right? They're made to be elastic. Maybe it will still feel the same even afterwards. And she can instead visit after the kid pops out. To put another one in her.

No, no. This should be a one time thing. No, wait, that's wrong too; it's not her kid. She's just wondering what it would be like if it was. Her dick throbs in her hand, thick and hot, all her blood rushing to the leaking shaft as she groans. She puts more force into her strokes, tightening her grip. Trying to replicate the vague memories she has of what Grant's girlfriend's pussy had felt like all those weeks ago. Imagines the other girl bouncing on her dick, having to make room for her massive stomach, begging Niala to knock her up again while Grant sleeps unknowing to the side.

Fuck. Her muscles tense as she comes, white cum shooting into the air before landing on her shirt and hand and pants.

She breathes out heavily, feeling her dick twitch with a final weak spurt before it starts to soften.

With her mind clearer, rationality returns. It's not her kid. She wouldn't do Grant dirty like that. She wouldn't do her own child like that. Mrs Fraiser would be a great mom, but Grant and Jem aren't even old enough to legally drink in some countries.

Gods, Grant must be panicking. West was right, she should call him. Preferably after she gets these thoughts of impregnating his girlfriend out of her head. Maybe rub one out a few more times to get it out of her system.

This is also a good reminder to keep her eyes on Mrs Fraiser's social media feeds. Niala has been slacking on that lately. But it's getting to be around that time. If she's lucky, there will be a baby announcement soon.

It's weird, but the thought of Mrs Fraiser being pregnant with her baby isn't as exciting as it used to be. It would be a relief, certainly. Knowing that she hadn't failed. That she had left a permanent mark on her teacher's life. But Niala remembers the nights she spent fantasising about fucking an impregnated Mrs Fraiser. Coming to thought of pressing kisses to her baby bump and drinking milk from her swollen breasts as the older woman came around her fingers. It's still a hot thought but it's not…

She's not as desperate for it as she used to be. She has Shana and Lor and Jolie now. A girlfriend to kiss and cuddle and suck her dick while awake, and two others to unknowingly take her dick as they sleep. Lor is even on birth control, so she doesn't have to wear a condom with her.

Mrs Fraiser is still… she still holds a special place in Niala's heart. Niala still cares, but…

She shakes her head. She doesn't have time to think about this. She's supposed to be heading to class in a few minutes and she now has to change her entire outfit. She pushes herself to her feet and strips her shirt over head.

Classes first. Then Grant. And maybe she should call West after, to properly catch up. Letting that friendship die would be depressing. Everything else she can sort out afterwards.

Chapter Text

Niala looks down at Shana's dark hair. The twisted braids pulled back in neat rows as her girlfriend's head bobs up and down.

“Holy shit,” she moans. Her core tenses and she throws her head back against the couch as a skilled tongue swirls around the head of her dick, fingers fondling her balls as those of another hand trace the prominent veins along her shaft.

Shana sucks at her swollen head, drawing pre-cum from her tip and causing Niala to melt. Hips bucking out of her control as the feeling overwhelms her. The dark skinned young woman rides the wild motions expertly, not letting it disrupt her task. She sinks down Niala's rod until her lips and fist meet and proceeds to make loud, sloppy sounds while continuing to suck Niala's pulsing dick.

“Fuck.” There's nothing else for her to say. Nothing else for her to do but to sit back and enjoy the way her girlfriend takes care of her.

Shana gives the best head and she knows it. She's proud of it. Niala blinks open hazy eyes as cozy warmth retreats from her dick to find her girlfriend smirking up at her. When Niala meets her gaze she opens her mouth, showing the mix of pre-cum and spit pooled in the dip of her tongue before sticking that tongue out above Niala's dick. The liquid drains free, trailing from the tip of Shana's tongue onto the tip of Niala's shining cock. Sliding down the shallow crevice on the pink head to catch on and spill over the lip of her foreskin. Niala shivers automatically, shifting her hips to bump against the extended tongue and releasing a low groan as Shana licks a line over the top of it.

The hand around her shaft strokes her steadily, thumb rubbing the underside of her dick. Her girlfriend presses a kiss to her swollen head that sends sparks down Niala's spine and then plump lips open up around her again. Soft suction causing her eyes to roll back in her head.

Her phone vibrates against her fingers, not so much in her grip anymore as resting overtop of her relaxed palm. The vibration melds into the pleasant hum already thrumming through her body. Any thoughts about messages or notifications escape her mind as Shana's mouth draws every thread of concentration to her pulsing dick.

They stay like that for several minutes, Shana expertly pulling Niala to the edge of what she can handle without orgasming and then easing her down to suffer the pleasant burn of her withheld climax. Niala enjoys all of it, letting her girlfriend take care of her until Shana finally decides she's had enough and works her across that final barrier. Deft hands massage Niala's balls as she comes, tears in her eyes from the sudden relief, every twitch of her dick sending a powerful pulse of cum into her girlfriend's mouth.

Only a bit of it escapes, lazily dribbling from the corner of her lips and threatening to drip onto her chest before Shana swipes it clean with her thumb. When Niala's orgasm tapers off into weak, stuttering tremors, Shana pulls away, her hand continuing to stroke Niala's shaft to ease her the rest of the way down. She licks her thumb clean as Niala catches her breath, and for a moment Niala's heart swells with affection.

It's a strange feeling for her, this… tenderness. Shana is beautiful and lovely. All dark skin and dark eyes and flirty smile, and the part of Niala that wants to hold the other girl close and sit for hours with her in her arms is frequently stronger than the desire to run hands across the contours of her body and make herself at home in her warm center. It's… different.

Shana pushes up off the ground between Niala's legs, using Niala's knees to brace herself as she leans forward. Niala meets her half way, drawn like a magnet to her girlfriend's swollen lips, pushing into that inviting mouth with no hesitation. Her own cum has a bitter aftertaste, but Niala hardly cares as she sinks into the kiss. Allowing herself to be pushed back as Shana straightens her legs, her hands shifting to the couch on either side of Niala as she holds herself upright.

It's strange, she thinks, as her hands rise to slide up smooth thighs. The soft fabric of her girlfriend's oversized t-shirt brushing over her thumbs and wrists. This isn't how Niala usually loves. But she doesn't dislike it at all.

—

Niala idly listens to the rushing hum of the shower as she goes through her notifications. Her skin still tingles with drying sweat, overly warm in a way that's torturously pleasant. Her bare legs are a bit cold in the air conditioned room, but the contrast to the heat under her skin is welcome and soothing. It works with her phone to help distract from the thin black fabric dangling from the tip of her erect dick, like a flag with no wind.

Shana's underwear, draped there by the woman herself, simply because she knew Niala would enjoy it. And she does. Her dick had gone from slowly softening to twitching upwards as Shana had positioned the garment to keep it from slipping. The fabric is too thin to really absorb much liquid, so her girlfriend's arousal stands out, shiny swirls against the delicate seat, angled perfectly for Niala to see it – to see the slow, glistening shift as her pre-cum pushes through the fabric and mixes in -

She's getting distracted. Niala forces her eyes back onto her phone as she ignores her racing pulse. It's a little embarrassing how into this she is. It would be so easy to just jerk herself off, to do what her throbbing dick demands and cum in the silky panties. Stain them white and then present the ruined mess to Shana. Her girlfriend would take them, she knows. Would hold the ruined mess of her underwear in her hand, would see what Niala had done to it, and -

Her abs tighten as a heavy pulse rolls through her center. Her hips want to buck upwards, but she holds them steady as her dick jumps and her balls tense up, the hanging underwear brushing against her shaft. Fuck, that makes it worse. The whisper soft caress like a teasing touch that sends a full body shiver reverberating up her spine.

She wants to touch her dick so bad. Just a light grip, to bleed off some of the building tension. To give in to the anticipation.

She grips her phone and forces herself to focus. All she has to do is hold out until Shana exits the shower, and then her girlfriend will finish Niala off herself. Will hold her own underwear in place as Niala releases into it. Will whisper praises with her subtle accent as Niala lets go and then pull the cum-filled fabric up her freshly washed legs to sit around her hips as Niala watches.

All Niala has to do is wait. Sit quietly with her need like her girlfriend asked. Sit patiently with her fantasies running wild and her body pleasantly burning, and then get rewarded for it.

It's not the first time Niala has ignored her own desperate need. She did it all the time in high school. Suffered through the non-stop surveillance at TAsseT until… well. The point is that she's used to holding herself back. She has fond memories of sitting needy and wanting in class, watching the curve of her teacher's ass as she wrote on the board and diligently writing down notes as her dick begged to see what that shapely skirt was hiding. Gods, the waiting had been tortuous, but the orgasm when she had gotten home? When she could close the door and pull down her pants, safe in the knowledge that her mom wouldn't be home for days, and so she was perfectly fine to jerk herself off in the entryway like an animal, stolen pictures of Mrs Fraiser smiling up at her from her phone?

Those orgasms had been spectacular, the heady relief like a high Niala would sometimes find herself subconsciously chasing. Even when Mrs Fraiser was ready and waiting underneath her, her pussy wet and open as the older woman slept, Niala remembers forcing herself to wait, delaying her own pleasure as she drove her teacher to orgasm with her fingers and tongue. She hadn't even realised it back then, how much she enjoyed the waiting.

The thought of her former teacher has Niala opening one of her social media feeds. One of the ones she created solely to keep track of the older woman. Mrs Fraiser's is the only active account this one follows, the others being dead or mostly dead accounts she followed solely to keep up appearances. As a result, her feed only ever has posts from her old teacher.

It's been more than two weeks since she last checked it, but not much has changed. Well, that's not quite true. There are plenty of new posts. Mrs Fraiser's idle thoughts and interests fill her timeline, from pictures of food from a restaurant she went to, to posts she liked about the state of the education system. Little notes about her day to day joys with images of her newly painted nails and freshly painted henna for a family function.

Niala's dick throbs like a steady heartbeat as she scrolls.

As always, there's nothing about having a baby or about child care. A picture of Mrs Fraiser leaning against a short stone wall with water stretching out to the horizon shows Niala what she's known for months now. Her teacher isn't pregnant. Niala failed.

For a moment, a sharp pain lances in her chest, but Niala brushes it aside easily. The information isn't new.

And anyway, she can still appreciate how her old teacher looks, the thin straps of her sundress on her delicate shoulders, the wide brimmed hat on her head shading her from the sun. Her caramel skin glistens in the warm sunlight, the line of her neck long and elegant as she looks off to the left, away from the camera. Her smooth, dark hair is like a curtain, frozen in time by the photograph, caught in some invisible breeze.

She has to have been wearing a strapless bra with that dress, and there's a part of Niala that wants to pull the top of that dress down, bra and all, to expose her teacher's massive tits to the sun-warmed air. But it's a distant desire.

Niala would fuck her old teacher if she could. How could she not? Mrs Fraiser is gorgeous. But it's just lust. She's over her crush; has something better now. Something real and reciprocal instead of a heartbreaking dream. If only Mrs Fraiser could have loved her back… then maybe-

No. Niala lets the hand holding her phone drop to her side and looks up at the white ceiling. So what if her teacher isn't pregnant. It had been a stupid plan anyway. Impregnating Mrs Fraiser in secret wouldn't have made Niala any more special to the older woman.

Niala sighs and looks down at the black underwear still hanging over the tip of her dick.

“I want to know what it would have felt like though.” She whispers the confession to the empty room.

West has been keeping her updated on the entire drama that is Jem's pregnancy. Frequently taking weekend trips to visit the girl Niala might have accidentally impregnated. And, god, just the thought has her dick twitching excitedly, the swollen rod perking up and causing the dangling fabric to shift. How much better would it have been if Mrs Fraiser was the one pregnant?

The sight of her teacher asleep on her bed, breasts exposed and legs pushed wide to show her glistening pussy is burned into Niala's memory. The excitement of sinking her dick into that warm enclosed space and feeling Mrs Fraiser grip onto her. The freshly fucked look of her afterwards, the hairs of her cunt pressed flat, and her open pussy dripping Niala's white cum. Holding onto that memory with the knowledge of her teacher carrying her baby would have been… amazing.

The shower turns off and Niala blinks her way back to the present. Shana’s panties are so wet Niala can see a mix of their arousal form a trailing drop from the tent of her dick down the folds of the black fabric. Thoughts of her teacher fade from her mind as she imagines Shana stepping out of the shower, taking her time to dry herself off with a towel, rubbing it over her breasts and between her legs. Her dick is screaming at her.

By the time her girlfriend exits the bathroom, Niala is clenching her fist hard to keep herself from shaking. She's slack against the couch, ass nearly off the seat as she rubs her balls with silky fabric, biting back her groans as the movement tugs at the head of her dick – the portion of Shana's panties wrapped around it pulled taut. It's not enough to get her off, but she can't stop herself from doing something. Knowing that relief is imminent has broken her hold on her self-restraint.

Her eyes are initially closed when she hears the bathroom door open. Visions of Shana and Mrs Fraiser and Dr Hathe playing over the back of her eyelids. Memories of their smiles; Shana's smug and flirty, Mrs Fraiser's proud and honest, Dr Hathe’s unsettling kindness. Other memories too. Her old teacher's breasts bouncing as Niala fucks her, wet underwear pulled aside and pussy gripping her tight. Dr Hathe's hands, warm and insistent inside her shorts, wrapped around her dick, steady and uncompromising. Shana. Beautiful, lovely Shana. Kissing her senseless as she grinds against her swollen shaft, pressing Niala into the bed and praising her for everything Niala has ever done right.

She so very badly wants to cum, her dick heavy and swollen, nerves alight with tense expectation, one light touch away from collapsing entirely. When she blinks her eyes open to Shana smirking down at her, dark skin smooth and clean with a towel swung around her shoulders and her breasts perky and uncovered, Niala's hips buck helplessly in the air.

Shana tuts in fake disappointment, eyes shining with mirth as she watches Niala fully give in to her desires, rubbing the wet panties up and down her shaft.

“I told you to wait,” she says, her soft voice curling around the vowels and consonants with a disappointment that doesn't match the smile on her lips.

Niala grips herself harder through the smooth fabric and with her girlfriend looking down at her it barely takes two strokes before she orgasms. A broken “Sorry,” half formed on her lips as she feels her cum build up around the head of her dick, trapped there by silken fabric.

Shana tuts again, a hand on her hip as she watches Niala fall apart. Some distant part of Niala wonders if it would ever be possible for her girlfriend to look at her with that same smirk as she comes inside her sleeping best friend. Probably not, but the thought is enough to push another spurt of cum from her trembling dick.

She can see it so clearly. Can feel Shana pressed up against her back, arms wrapped around Niala as her fingers encircle the base of her dick, just below where it's buried inside the sleeping Lor. Feeling every throbbing pulse of her ejaculation. Gods, what Niala wouldn't give for that fantasy to come true. And there her girlfriend is, smirking down at her as if she knows exactly what Niala is thinking when she can't possibly have a clue. Niala tenses again into a final drawn out shudder, feeling cum slide over and between her fingers as she meets Shana’s eyes.

When her body is loose and exhausted, slack against the couch, Shana's smirk eases into a smile that has Niala's heart fluttering.

“Feel better?”

Niala is too tired to nod, so she hums an affirmative sound as she closes her eyes.

“Good.” The scent of floral soap fills her next breath and then soft lips press against her cheek. “You lost the bet, so you're on laundry duty.”

Niala huffs a laugh. “Can the loser get a consolation prize?” She can't help the smile on her face as Shana pulls back to look at her.

Niala still has Shana's underwear in a loose grip around her dick as they kiss. Her mouth tastes like their peppermint toothpaste. In the back of her mind, Niala wonders what Mrs Fraiser would taste like, if it's the same all these months later.

It's a fleeting curiosity.

Chapter Text

Niala closes the door behind her, looking around at the unfamiliar living space as she steps further into the room. It's surprisingly cozy for such a cheap space, light spilling through the open curtains over warm toned furniture. The small suite has a couch, a simple four-seat dining table with a high chair, and a computer setup that seems to double as both a workstation and as the family TV.

“Hey cutie! How's my little tiger doing today?” West’s playful growl filters through an open door and Niala peeks into what must be Jem's bedroom.

West is standing next to a crib, a pudgy little human with curly black hair snuggled up against her chest. Jem watches on from the bed, looking cheerful but exhausted. She glances up as Niala crosses into the doorway and there's an awkward beat where they both just look at each other before Jem tilts her head and says, “Hey. Come in.”

And it's weird, stepping into the bedroom of a girl she used to not give a shit about. But there's the soft babbling of a baby and West’s enthusiastic grin to ease her in. So she steps into the room with a confidence she doesn't feel, standing in front of an old dresser to avoid awkwardly hovering in the doorway.

“Do you want to meet Aunty Niala?” West coos. “You can call her Aunt Nini.”

“Please don't teach him that,” Niala quickly cuts in. But West just gives her that smile that tells her she's going to have to learn to live with the new nickname. At least the kid won't be talking for a while yet.

West crosses the small distance between them, holding baby Adrian like she's had all the practice in the world. Jem watches on from the bed, seemingly unbothered at how familiar West is being with her kid. Not for the first time, Niala wonders when and how the two of them got this close, but then a little, white, diapered blob is being shoved into her arms and she's reminded of why she agreed to come with West for this visit in the first place.

Adrian… looks like a baby. Maybe slightly bigger than Niala would expect a baby to be? With tiny hands that can't seem to open from small fists, pudgy legs that can't seem to unbend, and whisper thin hairs that sit in sweeping curls on the very top of his head.

“Hold him like this,” West says. And suddenly Niala's arms are being moved and the baby is being repositioned and, wow, okay, holding him like this does feel better, with less pressure on her arms.

“He's so heavy,” Niala murmurs and hears a snort from the direction of the bed.

“Oh my fucking god. Didn't you basically go to a military bootcamp? Shouldn’t you be jacked to shit?” West raises an eyebrow when Niala looks up at her.

“Aren’t you supposed to not curse in front of kids?”

“Shit. Fuck. Piss. Damn.”

“You're getting progressively less graphic,” Jem chimes in.

“Motherfucker,” West continues and Jem giggles, and what twilight zone is Niala in right now? Adrian tries to grab at her shirt sleeve and when Niala looks down he’s drooling slightly. West notices and wipes it with the edge of a blanket. “He's way too young to understand. It's fine.”

“What if that ends up being his first word,” Niala can't help but ask.

And regrets it almost immediately as West leans over to wiggle a finger against baby Adrian's stomach and speak in that cutesy, overly uwu voice again. “Then he can tell any stinky dickhead that tries to mess with his mom to back the fuck up. Won't you Adrian?”

The baby laughs and squirms in her arms and Niala has a brief moment of panic as she worries about accidentally dropping him. Then West backs off and Adrian goes back to simply waving his arm ineffectually in the air.

“Don't listen to her Adrian.” Jem's voice is tired but… happy? At the very least she doesn't sound as depressed as West makes her out to be. That's… good. “She's a bad influence.”

“I'm the best influence,” West cuts back, and steps away to join the other girl by the bed. Leaving Niala with a baby she has no idea what to do with. Maybe put him back in his crib? Yes, that feels like the safe choice.

“You haven't been sleeping,” she hears West say as she crosses the room. Her voice is low, but in such a small room it's impossible not to hear.

“He hasn't been letting me,” Jem responds, and her tone makes Niala want to turn around. She's only ever heard Jem that soft when talking to Grant. It's another clue, Niala thinks, and files it away with all her other suspicions about her friend's sudden closeness to a girl they both used to roll their eyes at.

Adrian blinks up at her as she sets him down in a nest of blankets. His little fist immediately grabbing onto one and tugging at it aimlessly.

West and Jem continue to talk in the background, but Niala takes the opportunity to once again try and study Jem's kid. He's… a baby. He has Jem's dark hair and light skin that could be Jem's or Grant's or Niala's. Honestly, Niala isn't even sure what she's looking for. People say all the time that they can see similar features between kids and their parents, but Niala has never had that gift. To her, people always ever looked like themselves, unless they were identical twins. It's even worse with a baby. All of Adrian's features are still developing. His nose is barely a nose, the slant of his brow is hardly even a slant at all.

His eyes are narrow slits hiding brown irises, and maybe that's what Niala is looking for? Her eyes are brown. Grant's eyes are blue. Jem’s eyes are black, but Niala honestly has never looked all that closely before. They might just be a really dark brown.

Fuck.

She just wants to know if the kid is hers or not.

“He's cute isn't he?” West appears next to her, one hand on the crib railing. Niala turns her head to look back to the bed but Jem is nowhere to be seen.

“She went to go make coffee,” her friend whispers.

“Should she be drinking coffee? She looks exhausted.”

West shrugs half-heartedly. “She went without for seven-ish months. Her argument is that she deserves to drink it whenever she ‘damn well pleases’.”

Niala looks at her friend. It's been a while since they last met in person, and West looks different. Calmer. Less intense. Though that might just be because she isn't worried about Niala's “online stalking” anymore.

“You guys seem close,” she remarks.

West shrugs again. “Yeah, well. With Grant ghosting her and her parents giving her the prayer circle of disappointment because she won't get married, she needs someone in her corner.”

Niala raises an eyebrow, choosing to ignore the second half of that sentence. Jem's relationship with her parents isn’t something Niala cares to learn much about. “Grant said he checks in regularly.”

Her heart sinks as West scoffs. “Sure. To make sure Jem isn't homeless and starving. He hasn't even visited.”

“He had a tournament.” She knows it's a weak defence as soon as she says it.

“It's the birth of his fucking kid.”

And… well, there's nothing Niala can really say to that, except that it actually might not be. It's not like Grant knows what she does though. They stand in silence for a while, watching Adrian drift to sleep, before West speaks up again, even quieter than before.

“Jem won't say it cause you guys have some kind of weird blood feud, but thanks for coming.”

“It's not a blood feud.”

“You used to glare at each other the moment you came within throwing distance.”

“We never fought.”

“Because you went out of your way to avoid talking to each other.”

“I thought you didn't like her either.”

She doesn't mean for it to come out as accusing as it sounds. West is allowed to be friends with other people, even people she doesn't like. But she kind of wishes she'd been directly told about how close West and Jem were getting.

West shrugs her shoulders. “It was complicated.” And she doesn't elaborate any further than that. “Let's leave the little tiger to his sleep,” she suggests, tapping Niala on the back before leaving the room.

Niala stares after her for a moment, until she hears West and Jem talking in the next room, then quickly pulls out a small cylindrical container from her jacket pocket. She has to be quick about this.

Adrian thankfully doesn't make much of a fuss as she sticks the cotton swab in his mouth and rubs it against the inside of his cheek. Only just seeming to realise what's happening as she takes it out of his mouth and seals it back in the container. She walks out of the room before West or Jem can call her, resolving herself to being patient. She can pretend to be a good guest for the rest of the visit.

—

It takes three days for the results to come back, but Niala is in town for the entire week, so it's not too much of a problem. The wait still manages to be annoying. West is gone almost the entire time, sometimes sleeping over at Jem's place, supposedly to give Jem a break from being woken up in the middle of the night.

Niala checks her phone almost religiously, waiting for an update on the app she installed. On the nights West isn't in the hotel room she masturbates to the one picture she has of Jem, with her clearly pregnant in a hospital shift, West leaning in close with a grin Jem clearly struggles to replicate aimed at the camera. It's not the hottest picture Niala has, but it's exactly what she needs as she strokes her dick to the thought that she might be the reason for that look on Jem's face.

Her notification sounds are muted, so it's almost 20 minutes late when she sees the app icon in her notifications. She locks herself in the bathroom, not wanting her friend to see her reaction. And then there's nothing stopping her from opening the app and checking her messages.

It's hers.

He's hers. With a 99 percent certainty. Holy shit.

I got Jem pregnant, she thinks. And just -

Wow.

Fuck, that kind of turns her on. Actually, she's definitely getting turned on. Jem had her baby. Niala knocked her up on the first go without even trying.

So what the fuck went wrong with Mrs Fraiser then?

Ah, no. She's over that. It's been months since she accepted that failure. But it's nice to get confirmation that the issue hadn't been, well, her. Her teacher had probably been on birth control. Not completely unexpected, though Niala had hoped otherwise.

She looks down at her phone again, focusing on the confirmation message. Reading the unnecessary fluff that comes after, followed by the hollow thanks for utilizing the service.

Okay.

Okay.

Niala tries to keep her focus, ignoring her racing heart and her swelling dick. The question is what she should do now that she knows Adrian is her… son. Wow does that feel different now that she knows it's true.

Maybe she should fuck Jem so she has another baby.

No, that would be stupid and reckless. Jem is barely managing as it is and Niala hadn't even wanted to get her pregnant in the first place. Jem's life isn't stable enough for it. As things are, she'll need to figure out a way to support Jem and Adrian without being too overt about it. Maybe through West?

She tries to ignore the rush of blood to her dick, but it's difficult, and when she looks down she's greeted by the sight of a prominent bulge at the front of her sweatpants. Looking at the clear evidence of her arousal makes it worse.

Gods, she doesn't even like Jem. The little baby boy tying them together is evidence of a mistake. But there's nothing Niala wants more right now than to have Jem's legs spread open under her so Niala can fuck her into the mattress.

She's going to do it. She can already see how easy it would be. Her mind hovers over the image of releasing inside the young mother's unprotected pussy, impregnating her again, and she shudders – the tent in her pants sticking out comically far. She shouldn't. In fact, she won't. She'll use a condom, she promises herself. But there's nothing wrong with fantasising the opposite while taking care of her erection. She can come in Jem's mouth first to make up for having to use a condom after. Yes, that sounds like a plan.

She shivers again, her dick throbbing between her legs as she reads the message again, staring at the bold 99 percent in the middle of the screen as she unties her sweat pants one handed. Her dick is almost at its full length as she pulls the now loose waistband down her hips and lets the sweat pants pool around her feet. Then she's opening her gallery and scrolling to the one picture she has of Jem.

West's grinning face is almost invisible to her as she focuses on the other girl. She's without makeup and has fading bags under her eyes. The wide collar of the hospital gown shows her delicate collarbone. And further down at the very bottom of the image is the prominent curve of her belly. Jem’s arm is thrown over the top of it in a way someone else might see as protective, but Niala sees as a poor attempt to hide it – to diminish its presence in the resulting picture because despite West's best efforts Jem is ashamed.

She was about seven months pregnant at this point, Niala thinks as she wraps her hand around her still stiffening cock. The touch of her chilled grip to the burning rod causes her to jump and then shiver. Seven months pregnant and feeling the shame of a whore’s unwanted pregnancy. Thinking it's Grant's baby when it was actually Niala who knocked her up.

Niala grunts behind gritted teeth as she starts teasing her dick, forcing herself to keep quiet to not alert West in the next room. Her eyes roam repeatedly between Jem's face and her massive stomach. The shaft under her fingers swelling to its maximum thickness as she imagines what she could have done if she hadn't been halfway across the country at the time. Visiting Jem in the dark of night and fucking her pregnant pussy – holding her from behind and feeling the taut skin under her hands as she filled the other girl with her cum. Used her like the breeding whore she apparently is, to get pregnant so easily after just one night of sex.

Niala's breathing is unsteady as she sits down on the closed toilet lid. Her fingers slippery with her own pre as she properly grips her shaft in her hand and starts to stroke it.

Gods, the other girl was made to be pregnant, wasn't she? Her tight little pussy eager to send Niala's cum straight to her ovaries. It's been too long. She hadn't cared enough to remember the feel of the other girl's pussy, only remembers that it had been tighter than she expected for someone so obviously turned on. She wants- no, she needs to shove her dick up Jem's cunt again. Needs to remind herself of what the pussy of the girl she impregnated is like.

Niala shudders, hunching over slightly as her balls tense up under her dick. Her arousal driving her hand into longer enveloping strokes, closing over her leaking head to then slather more of her pre-cum down the sides of her dick. Her strokes grow more insistent over time, her eyes glued to the rise under Jem's hospital gown. The rise Niala put there.

She wishes she could travel back in time to be there. Put on a disguise and pretend to be Jem's gynecologist. Find some excuse to put the young woman under and then lift her legs in stirrups to fuck her right there on the hospital bed with the paper gown tucked under her chin to expose the roundness of her belly and her swollen tits.

Niala cums like that, hand wrapped around the head of her dick as she imagines herself thrusting into Jem's pink cunt and feeling the evidence of her own spend along the tight inner walls.

Fuck, she's still horny. Her dick sags slightly in her loose grip, but the burning in her gut feels just as intense as when she started.

She doesn't have time for this. If she spends too long in the bathroom West will get curious. She's already been in here for a while.

Niala forces herself to calm down as she cleans up. Flushing the tissues she uses down the toilet and wiping her neck with a damp rag to get rid of the little bit of sweat she feels. She sprays air freshener liberally to cover up the lingering smell. She'll just pretend she had the sudden urge to take a massive dump.

Hopefully tonight isn't one of the nights West goes to visit her new friend.

—

Breaking into Jem's tiny apartment is as simple as swiping the spare key from West's purse as the other girl is showering. There's the tense moment of hoping the young mother isn't awake on a baby run as she turns the lock and pushes open the door, but luck is on her side and the apartment is dark and silent.

Niala quickly toes her sneakers off at the entrance before crossing the small space on silent steps. Entering the bedroom through the wide open doorway.

First things first, she's got to make sure baby Adrian doesn't wake up screaming for food in the middle of everything. She presses gentle fingers to his forehead pushing the concept of prolonged sleep through her Talent and feeling it settle into place. She's still not sure of the exact science behind her ability, but learning that she could extend the effect of her Talent to last after she lost contact with her target had been the major highlight of her time at TAsseT. On a normal adult, the extended forced sleep can last for as little as five minutes to as long as one hour, depending on several factors. On a baby, she has to be careful not to overdo it. Babies want to sleep a lot, so when Niala pulls her hand away it's to the sense that Adrian will be in a forced slumber for at least the next two hours.

That should be more than enough time.

She turns her attention to the bed. With the crib and the dresser and the collapsible closet, there's not enough room for anything larger than a twin sized mattress. The simple wooden frame reminding Niala of her college dorm, pushed up against the wall to make space for everything else. Jem is on her side at the edge furthest from the wall, turned in the direction of the crib as if ready to spring up the moment Adrian cries out for her. Her long hair fans out on the pillow, loose strands becoming visibly tangled in the soft moonlight.

Niala's dick twitches to life. The long hours since her session in the bathroom had allowed her to calm down some. But all of her feelings come rushing back as she stands over the young mother's bed.

Niala had barely given her a second thought after fucking her that first time. Sure, Jem is pretty when her eyes don't have that condescending slant. Niala can even admit that the other girl can be cute, the way she used to smile when Grant teased her. But their one night together had been nothing more than a convenient pussy for Niala to get off in – memorable only because of how eager the other girl had been to bounce on Niala's dick while her boyfriend was asleep right next to them. She hadn't thought of Jem again until West had told her the other girl was pregnant. Would have forgotten her completely if her best friend hadn't given her constant updates while begging her to talk to Grant who was rightfully freaking out about everything.

Niala slowly presses a finger to Jem's bottom lip. Activating her Talent and feeling it seep into her through the single digit. She pushes prolonged sleep into Jem at the same time as she pushes her finger between the other girl's lips, knocking into her teeth. She's going to put her dick in that same mouth, she thinks, before withdrawing her finger and standing up straight.

Her Talent won't keep Jem sleeping for long before she fades back into a more natural slumber, but Niala doesn't need a lot of time as she flips on the light in the room and quickly undresses. Her dick is half extended and rising as she steps out of her underwear, her pulse pounding in tandem with her heartbeat. She's not nervous, she's long over getting nervous about being naked in a room with a sleeping beauty. She is excited though. And she feels herself smiling as she pulls the sheet away from Jem's body, her eyes immediately falling to the small bump of her stomach under the long t-shirt. It's only been a few weeks since Jem was released from the hospital, and her body still bears the signs of her pregnancy; her once flat stomach still slightly curved.

Niala turns Jem onto her back, straddling her thighs to get into a better position, and using both hands to lift the loose garment up Jem's torso. Thin hairs on Jem's legs show that the other girl hasn't shaved in a while. And Niala passively absorbs that little factoid as she unveils Jem's grey panties and pudgy stomach.

Niala did this. Her dick stands at full attention as she touches the other girl with reverence. Her eyes trace over the remnants of fat, the branch-like lines on Jem's hips and thighs; stretch marks. There's a scar on Jem's left side, sealed but still slightly inflamed – healing. Niala recognises it as a c-section scar, so Jem hadn't been able to push Adrian out the normal way.

She'll have to be careful not to aggravate it while they fuck.

Fuck. She's about to sleep with the mother of her kid. Could very well get her pregnant a second time if she was inclined to.

Her eyes travel up from Jem's stomach and freezes. The shirt is rolled up to just under Jem's modest breasts, but what catches Niala's attention is the small wet spot over the other girl's right tit. It's a bit off center from her nipple, probably having shifted when Niala moved her, but there's no mistaking where it came from. Right. Jem is a new mother. She's lactating.

Niala's dick screams for attention, but she ignores it as she rolls the shirt further up Jem's chest, tucking it up under her armpits.

Her areola and nipple are… wet. A light sheen making the pink skin glisten. Niala can't help herself. She wraps her hand around Jem's breasts with a shaky breath, and then… squeezes.

To her disappointment, nothing happens at first. Not on the first or second try. She changes her technique, wrapping her hands around the outer circumference and sliding them upwards as she squeezes, tugging lightly at the nipples at the end of each motion. If Jem is swollen enough to leak in her sleep then surely just this should be enough to get her started, right?

“Come on,” Niala encourages the breasts in her hands. “You want to feed our baby, right? He's starving.”

It takes a while, but eventually a small drop of liquid pushes out from the center of Jem's nipple, on the same breast where the stain was previously. It grows in size as Niala slides her hand from base to tip, a yellowish white that transfers easily to Niala's thumb, and her hips buck forward suddenly with the overwhelming urge to rut into someone – into the body underneath her.

Soon enough there's a similar drop squeezing out of Jem's other tit. Then another. Little beads teasing free like liquified temptation as Niala's dick strains. Getting on her fingers and palms and making her want to wrap her damp hands around her dick to coax out her own brand of milk.

Fuck. She had planned to start things off with a blowjob but she can barely keep her focus with how turned on she is. Her dick is already leaking a steady stream of pre-cum, dripping onto Jem's stomach. She has to pull her hands away to lean over the side of the bed. Pulling a condom from the pocket of her discarded pants and tearing it open with her teeth as she watches Jem's sleeping face.

Something wild and savage inside her protests the need for it as she rolls the latex down over her shaft. Having unprotected sex – filling a woman up with her cum, knowing she could get pregnant – has a special kind of thrill. The call to take the risk, to take the condom off and sink into Jem bare, is powerful. But she doesn't have Grant to use as a cover if Jem actually gets pregnant again. More importantly, Niala wants any kids she has to have a decent life. Fucking Jem into the poverty typical of young parenthood is the last thing she wants to do.

With that to ground her, the condom stays on. Even as she pulls Jem's panties to the side and runs questing fingers between her unfamiliar lower lips. She's slightly wet already. Niala's finger drags through a shallow thickness that clings to the digit, making her motions smooth as she circles around the other girl's clit. She's working blind, her other hand back around Jem's tit, slowly coaxing more drops of milk out of it. Leaning over Jem's unaware body as the other girl shifts against her fingers.

It's been a while since Niala has slept with anyone new. And sure, Jem technically isn't a new conquest but with how little Niala remembers of their first and only time together, she's as good as. Running her fingers along Jem's pussy feels like exploring new territory, and she can't help but compare the feel of it to others she knows. The wings of Jem's labia are shorter than Lor's. Her clit not as pronounced as Shana’s, even when hard. Even the inside… Niala pushes in with a single digit and the warmth and closeness is familiar but the way her inner muscles fold and curve is not.

Jem’s first moans are subtle, a purring murmur from the back of her throat as her hips rock helplessly onto the sole finger in her pussy. She's so needy, like she's starved for sex, and Niala wonders if maybe her suspicions about Jem and West are wrong.

The young mother's mouth opens slightly as her breathing grows heavier, each huffing exhale perfectly timed to the inward stroke of Niala's finger.

Maybe it isn't that Jem is starved for sex. Maybe her breasts are just sensitive and Niala's extended massage had gotten her all hot and bothered. Whatever the case, it doesn't take long for the passage of Niala's finger to grow slick and smooth. Pushing in a second finger results in soft wet sounds and Niala can feel Jem's spreading arousal clinging to the base of her fingers in a thick, viscous pool. It's time.

Niala rests one hand on the bed by Jem's side, holding herself upright as she bends down to wrap her lips around one protruding nipple. At the same time, she withdraws her fingers from Jem's pussy, ignoring the disappointed stretch of her body, to line up her dick with the other girl's entrance – passing down over her clit until she feels the depression that slowly eases open around her pressing head.

Oh, Niala thinks as Jem's pussy slowly opens up around her dick. Oh, her thoughts repeat as tight muscles contract closely around the wide part of her cock head. This was what she had forgotten. It's just the head inside, but Jem's tight pussy works it over like she's been dying for Niala's dick. The motion of her inner walls and subtle shifting of her hips enough to drag Niala to the edge of an orgasm in the first few seconds of being inside her. Even with the condom slightly dulling the sensations, Niala is near instantly in a fight against her own body to not cum prematurely.

It's embarrassing. Niala hasn't felt threatened to blow her load this early in months. Not with her girlfriend Shana, who gives truly phenomenal head. Not with Lor, whose tits bounce so wildly during sex and who sleeps so shallowly that sometimes it feels like she's the one fucking Niala.

Sucking on Jem's nipple doesn't help. Lapping at the trickling drops that are strangely sweet and creamy on her tongue. It magnifies the pulsing in her dick, the portion of it not encased in Jem's pussy jealously protesting that fact as it swells with the need to be inside the mother of her child right fucking now. It's a cascading effect, and yet she can't stop herself, can't pull away from Jem's breast. Not when each draw comes with more and more of Jem's milk.

It's not- it's not a kink, she thinks as she wrestles herself away from the edge, letting her dick throb angrily with its denied release. It's not something that would set her heart racing on its own. If she sees someone breastfeeding it's not gonna make her want to masturbate; not like how catching a glimpse of a woman's underwear can set her off. It's the reminder that turns her on. Jem is lactating because she had a baby recently. And she had a baby recently because over nine months ago Niala filled her up with baby batter while using her as a convenient cock sleeve. This nectar she's drinking, which comes more and more easily the longer she sucks at Jem's tit, is a direct result of her actions.

She did this. She made this mark on Jem's body – on her life. Altered it irrevocably. Gods, if that isn't unbelievably hot.

Her dick twitches as Jem breathes out a relaxed sigh and Niala finally drags herself away from Jem's swollen nipple to slowly push her dick the rest of the way in.

She holds herself upright on one hand, looking down at her own undulating hips and biting her lip as she focuses. She swears she can feel her dick compressing as it passes through the other girl's entrance. She knows it's mostly in her head, but when she sits back on her heels and looks, the pink wall of Jem's cunt stretches around her glistening condom wrapped shaft like an elastic band, leaving no gaps for anything else. When she pulls back in preparation for another delving thrust, it drags backward with her, stretching out even more and threatening to pull the condom right off her dick.

Niala huffs a laugh at that thought. Of course Grant's whore of a girlfriend would take offence at that thin layer of protection. It's like she wants Niala to knock her up again. She hopes West knows what she's getting into, though she doesn't have the equipment to satisfy this specific craving.

Anyway, it's not that Jem isn't properly prepped; her pussy shines with her juices, dripping arousal catching in her pubic hair, and every millimeter of stretched latex bears wet trails as evidence of how ready she is. She's just naturally a tight fuck. And Niala revels in that as she works her dick deeper and deeper into the other girl's heated entrance. Eyes closing as her hands drift down to Jem's hips.

She's mindful of the still healing scar inches above her fingers. Fucking the sleeping young woman nice and slow like a lover. Her full length moving in and out of her flushed pussy as Jem squirms into the sheets with restless energy.

The other girl's inner walls move with the same restlessness, pressing close around her seated dick in rhythmic squeezes, pulling at her dick in an attempt to keep it locked in place whenever Niala pulls back her hips. Niala angles her hips in a thrust aimed to push against Jem's g-spot and feels the other girl's core flutter as her hips shake and push upwards to meet her.

It's perfect. And the more time that passes, the easier it gets. The less Niala feels worried about the condom tearing or coming loose. Her dick slides freely in and out of Jem's accommodating hole with the girl Niala is now inextricably tied to moaning her appreciation with every other breathy exhale.

She considers rubbing the other girl's clit, helping her get the orgasm she so clearly wants – even while sleeping, but ultimately decides against it. Shifting Jem's legs to make more room for herself as she bends to take a nipple between her lips – the other nipple, this time, to balance her attentions. Once again, naturally sweet milk enters her mouth and her dick twitches with a hard pulse even as she continues to fuck the other girl. Jem moans as she does, a louder, needier whine as the pressure in her breasts is relieved. Well, Niala assumes it's a relief. Maybe Jem just loves having her nipples sucked.

She continues on like that, seconds stretching out into minutes. Her hips keeping a steady constant rhythm so the only sounds in the room are the creaking of the bed, the wet sucking sound of Jem’s cunt and her sleepy breathy moans as Niala switches from one tit to the next. Before finally giving Jem's breasts a break to press kisses under her jaw and whisper promises she doesn't intend to keep into Jem's ear.

Promises to take care of her. To turn her into Niala's personal one woman breeding factory. To get her pregnant again so the next time Niala can fuck her while the baby is still growing inside her. To do a second round with the condom off since Jem wants it so badly. She promises to fill Jem up with so much cum that it'll drip down her thighs when she gets out of bed in the morning. That she'll be feeding little Adrian while she feels the cum stains in her underwear, and know that she got impregnated again.

She runs her hands over Jem's exposed body, over her sides and down her thighs, up her stomach to grip her breasts, body held up by her elbows as she hovers close enough to feel the heat wafting off of the other girl's skin. All the while her dick pumps in and out of Jem’s cunt, feeling hot and swollen – just waiting for the go ahead to release its full load.

Jem's breathing grows shallower as she gets closer to the edge, sharp huffs of air escaping her open lips, knees knocking into Niala's thighs as they bend and shift over the sheets. If Niala touches her clit right now she'll cum, but Jem's pleasure is incidental to Niala’s own. She's not Niala's lover, no matter how Niala is fucking her like one. She's a warm pussy with a baby attached. Only there to spread her legs and take Niala's dick, and then be forgotten after.

Niala groans as she has that thought, loud and uncaring. Her dick throbs harshly, a familiar tension building in her core as she sits up on her heels and pulls Jem closer by her thighs.

Jem orgasms, her pussy clamping down on Niala's dick like a needy bitch begging for its treat.

“You're such a fucking whore,” Niala says, her voice breaking.

And she cums. Long and hard into the condom sealed around her dick. There's a moment of irritation at its presence, Niala annoyed at the barrier between her cum and Jem's eager open pussy, before it's brushed away by the exhilaration of her orgasm. Rope after rope of stringy jizz filling the space left at the tip of her dick, hot and gooey as the condom stretches to accommodate it.

She comes down from her orgasm slowly. Her dick twitching inside Jem's fluttering walls as Niala blinks her eyes open and releases a relaxed sigh.

Well, that was nice. It scratched the desperate itch that had been building in her since she first realised the baby Jem was having might be hers.

She stretches her hands above her head with a groan, before rolling her shoulders and pulling her dick out of that comforting heat. It's already losing its stiffness, sagging further and further as it slowly shrinks. Niala could go for another round. Could put her dick in Jem's mouth and cum on her tongue like she had initially wanted. But she's feeling pretty satisfied with just this.

Niala works the condom off her dick, careful not to spill any of the cum inside as she ties it. She'll find a bin to dump it in outside the apartment.

She looks down at the sleeping Jem, taking a moment to really consider if she's done for the night. She has more condoms in her pants pocket, and her stamina is nowhere near depleted… but she's just not the desperate teenager she used to be. And even if she was, Jem isn't the type Niala would be eager to fuck as much as possible.

Yup. She's done. Time to clean up and head home. Well, back to the hotel. Hopefully West is still sleeping.

Niala taps Jem's thigh as thanks for the use of her body, pushing prolonged sleep into her so Niala has time to clean up in the bathroom.

She really hopes West isn't crushing on the other girl. Her best friend could really do better.