My midterms had been going great. My Erotic Writing 101 test was a breeze as well as my Nude Photography 201 class. My jaw was a little sore from my Oral Pleasure class but the redhead I had to eat was a delight. I know I aced my Vibrator Repair test as well as my Critical 70’s Porn Movie Studies test.
The only test I was worried about was my Basic Spanking Class. Christ, I enjoyed spanking the lovely asses of the women that were supplied by the class, but the teacher was another matter. Mrs. Marshall was a real ball buster. At first I was excited to have her as a teacher because she is pretty hot for an older woman. She has this curly brown hair that she wears down to her shoulders and every day she wore a new blouse that revealed even more cleavage than the day before. She was great to look at but as soon as she opened her mouth, she would cut you down and make you feel like the world’s biggest idiot with a paddle.
One time I was spanking my model and Mrs. Marshall came up behind me. She sighed with genuine sadness.
“Peter, I know you never masturbate because that is the weakest swing I have ever seen,” she said. “You have the grip of an eight year old girl.”
What the fuck does that even mean? It didn’t stop the rest of the class from laughing. Hell, even my model was giggling. It does nothing for your confidence when the person you are spanking is laughing at you.
As you can imagine, I wasn’t looking forward to my test. Mrs. Marshall insisted on testing each student individually so I didn’t even have the rest of my class to hide in. I arrived at Mrs. Marshall’s office with my paddle and a shit load of nerves.
Mrs. Marshall was sitting at her desk and today she hadn’t even bothered to put on a blouse. She was wearing a black lace bra that held in those lovely breasts that I had been peeking at all semester. She had her hair down and framing her cruel face. She looked up at me and frowned. My very presence appeared to disappoint her.
“Peter, I will be with you in a moment,” she said. She returned to her paperwork.
I glanced around. We were alone in the office. “Uh, where’s my spanking model?”
Mrs. Marshall ignored me. I wasn’t terribly surprised. I did worry that maybe I was suppose to supply my own model for the test. Mrs. Marshall would spend a good ten minutes pointing out my mental deficiencies if I forgot to bring something. I waited nervously until she was done with her papers.
“All right, Peter, let’s get this over with,” she said.
Mrs. Marshall stood up and I realized she wasn’t wearing any pants. Shit, she wasn’t wearing panties either. I had a good look at the hairy bush of pubic hair between her thighs. She bent over her desk and supported herself on her elbows in a classic #2 Spanking Position.
“Well, what are you for?” Mrs. Marshall said. “Show me what tiny bit of knowledge managed to sink into your skull this semester.”
I gripped my paddle and walked around to her side of the desk. Her ass was just as round and full as her tits. I had to pause to subtly rearrange my erection under my pants. She was wearing black lace stockings that matched her bra. She also had on high heels that really lifted her ass. It was a stunning sight to behold.
“Any time now, Peter,” Mrs. Marshall said. “I am sure you remember something of your lessons.”
I was paralyzed with terror. I remembered plenty. I recalled every insult she made about my form. Seared into my memory was every snide comment about how I treated my spanking models. I have dreams where Mrs. Marshall is critiquing every single thing I did. Remembering was not the problem; the problem was I might never forget this bitch and her class.
Then I realized that I had nothing left to lose. What else was she going to do to me? Fail me and criticize me some more?
I placed the paddle against her ass. Slowly I ran the paddle over the curves of her bottom. This was supposed to sensitize the ass for the spanking about to come but it served a different purpose for me. I was building up courage and ramping up my anger.
I grabbed her bra strap as a handle and swung my paddle back. Her back dipped as she prepared for the blow. I deliberately waited a few seconds more than necessary. Let her sweat for once.
The paddle swung through the air and connected with Mrs. Marshall’s ass. It was a good solid hit. Technically I think it was too hard for an opening spank and I am sure Mrs. Marshall was going to count it against me but I didn’t care. The gasp she made when the paddle hit her was worth it.
After the first hit, my body went into automatic. I swung the paddle again and this time hit her right buttock. A second hit landed on her left buttock. I alternated back and forth until at a random moment I struck her square in the center of her ass. All of those classes and instructions were actually paying off.
I pulled tighter on her bra as I picked up the pace. I peppered her ass with spanks in a clockwise manner. Her round bottom turned a lovely shade of pink. After applying the clockwise technique, I switched back to a left-right pattern that traveled her ass from top to bottom. From there I tried a more advanced two hit followed by the three hit rhythm. My fear had melted away as I put every lesson to work.
Spanking Mrs. Marshall’s lovely bare ass was nice, but the real treat was the lack of criticisms. That didn’t mean she was silent. She groaned when I struck her hard and she moaned when my paddle hit her in one certain sweet spot. For all I knew she could be mentally failing me but at least she wasn’t saying it out loud. When she whimpered from a fast barrage of spanks, I could almost believe she just a woman and not the bane of my semester.
It was also turning me the fuck on. I released her bra strap and it snapped painfully down on her back. She spun her head around and glared at me but fuck, I was too horny to care. I kept spanking her except now I reached underneath her and grabbed a handful of her bra covered tit.
I expected her to cuss me out. Mrs. Marshall moaned instead. I moaned too. Sinking my fingers into those tits that have teased me all semester was awesome. My erection throbbed and I spanked harder as a poor sex substitute.
My paddle tore into Mrs. Marshall’s ass. Despite my arousal, I was still spanking her according to the techniques. I had a death grip on her tit but my paddling arm was tapping out different rhythms on her now red ass. My anger had faded and now I was spanking with pure libido.
“Fuck!” Mrs. Marshall said. “Stop, stop stop!”
I stopped in mid swing. Oh shit, I was worried. I figured I had flunked for sure. I still had her tit in my hand though.
“Fuck me,” Mrs. Marshall said.
I stood there dumbly.
“Fuck me Peter!” Mrs. Marshall said. “Fuck me now while my ass is still hot. Do it!”
There was no arguing. I let go of her tit and ripped my pants open. I yanked my boxers down and took my cock in hand. Mrs. Marshall spread her legs and reached for me. She took a firm hold of my cock and guided me in.
Wet warm delicious liquid forbidden perfect heaven engulfed my cock. I sank into her pussy till her burning hot ass pressed against me. The heat radiating from her spanked ass was incredible. Pride surged through me. That ass is burning because of me.
We fucked. My cock rammed into her with the same fury that I had spanked her ass. Mrs. Marshall growled as we fucked, urging me to go faster and faster. I kept spanking her ass with my hand. After giving one of the best spankings of my life, I wasn’t willing to stop.
We came pretty fast. It is debatable who climaxed first. It was like we had been fucking for a good long time before my cock was in her. We were both ready to burst and it didn’t take long at all.
After we finished, I reluctantly pulled out and pulled my pants back on. Mrs. Marshall simply sat back down on her chair. I smirked when she winced at her bottom touching the seat.
“Not bad, Peter,” Mrs. Marshall said.
I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t much of a compliment but at least it wasn’t an insult. That’s progress, right?
“I’m going to give you an ‘A’,” Mrs. Marshall said. “And I want you to seriously consider taking my advanced spanking class next semester.”
“Uhh, I’ll consider that,” I said.
“See that you do,” Mrs. Marshall said.