Mr Tippet's young lover

I’d spent the weekend studying, but when I came to the German Lit books all I could think of was my teacher’s cock in my arse.

Monday arrived, and German Lit was first up. I’d decided to dress a little bit more feminine than I normally did at school, and all the girls smiled. So did Mr. Tippet. The class went by uneventfully. I was last out of the room, and Mr. Tippet didn’t say anything, but he did smile, look me over top to toe, and show me a piece of paper that said “my place, seven”.

Lisa was waiting, as usual.

“Women’s jeans?”

I nodded.

“Trying to impress teach?”

“No, they’re just really comfortable.”

“And the platform sneakers?”

“Well….”

She smiled.

“Oh come on Richard, everyone knew you were gay from day one. We’ve seen you looking at guys, and at Mr. Tippet, and we all know he wants you! You’re just his type: blond, pale, slim. Did he hit on you in his office the other day?”

“Dream on Lisa, dream on!”

I had a few more classes that day, but I decided to skip the last one so I’d have time to get ready.

Fuck, what to wear. Last time he’d made me change my clothes – although I’d loved the outfit and got a buzz being fucked in it – so could I impress him tonight?

I had some black PVC jeans and a long bright red V-neck top that I could tie low around my buttocks and groin, and I paired it with my white Western boots and a pair of black lace panties. A light touch of make-up, some mascara, a little lip gloss and perfume, and I was ready.

7pm on the dot and I’m at the front door.

“My sweet!”

He eyed me up and down.

“Hmmm, looking yummy, aren’t we! And that delicate touch makeup…!”

Drink in hand, he was wearing a suit and tie with a black academic gown.

I must have looked a little taken aback.

“Oh, this. Don’t worry! You’ll see my dear. I’m going to be your schoolmaster tonight, and I think you’ll love the lesson I have planned! Your clothing is upstairs in the bedroom next to the bathroom. Now just get undressed here and run up in your birthday suit, will you.”

I stripped off everything, and he spanked my arse as a walked past him to the stairs.

The clothing was on the bed, and it took me a minute to figure it out.

A straw boater hat with a light blue band, a pair of knee-high white socks and patent leather Mary Jane schoolgirl shoes with a strap and a modest heel, a lacy pair of crotchless bloomers that looked like they’d come up to my chest, a short white shirt with a high collar and paired with a thin necktie, a short dark blue jacket, and a pair of matching longish short pants with a button-up fly and suspenders that buttoned in front and back. I was sold.

I started with the lacy bloomers. They were tight-fitting and came up past my belly button, but they left by arse and cock free for their “lesson”. Then the shirt. It just reached the bloomers, and I tied the thin tie into a nice bow. I picked up the pants, and as I was pulling them on and buttoning the fly I noticed what seemed to be a stain. (Looks like someone’s been here before me!) I finished with the buttons and pulled the suspenders over my shoulders. The pants rode high, leaving most of my thighs visible, and nicely hid the meeting between the shirt and the bloomers. I pulled the socks on, turned them down, and slipped the shoes on. Last was the jacket, again a tightish fit, and then I put the boater on.

I’d done all this on the bed and hadn’t seen how I looked, so I stood up and went to the mirror.

Oh my God! I was a sissy little British schoolboy from some exclusive private school! I just loved it, and so did my cock. I adjusted the boater and the jacket, organized my shirt and bloomers under my short pants, and admired my legs in the white socks and black shoes.

“Ready yet Richard?”

“Just about!”

I do a final check, then walk to the top of the stairs.

Mr. Tippet is waiting at the bottom, a cane in one hand.

“Oh my, Oh my!” he said. “Don’t we just look adorable! My own little sissy schoolboy. Come down quickly, I want a better look at you!”

I minced down the stairs with my thumb in my mouth and stood in front of him, hands at my side and head up.

“Thumb out of your mouth! You’ll have something to suck on soon enough!”

I raise my hand to scratch my head.

“Did I give you permission to scratch your head boy??”

“Uh, no…”

“No what???”

“No Sir.”

“That’s better. Now turn around.”

I turn around, and he runs his hand under my pants and checks the bloomers.

“Good, good. Now turn and face me. Do you like your uniform boy?”

“Very much, Sir.”

He runs his cane over the front of my pants and stops.

“What’s this lump? What have you got in there?”

“Uh.. it’s..”

“Enough mumbling, boy. Open your buttons and show me!”

I open my buttons, and my hard-on pops out.

“And what is that?”

“It’s…”

“I know what it is boy, I know what it is. Why is it hard?”

“Uh, because…”

“You’re excited, aren’t you boy?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Well, get on with it! The sooner you masturbate the sooner you can put it back in your pants and we can get on with things.”

I start stroking slowly, intending to put on a show, but I’m so turned on I come in no time.

“Good, now button up again. We’ve wasted enough time.”

I do as he asks. He runs the cane over my cock and I notice he’s hard under his trousers.

“What are you looking at?”

“……………”

“Ah, you’re a little sissy cocksucker, aren’t you boy!”

In a small voice: “Yes Sir,”

“ I assume you’ve sucked most of the senior boys?”

“Yes Sir.”

“ Would you like to suck me?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Well, open my pants then, and get a move on! A hard cock waits for no mouth.”

I reach out for his zipper.

“Kneel first, boy! Kneel down and do it! And boater off!”

I do as I’m told, and in a few seconds I have his erection in my face.

“Get to it, get to it!!”

I’d sucked Mr. Tippet before, but this was a whole new ball game. I was so turned on by what was happening that I was even more careful than before to make sure he enjoyed it. I sucked long and gently from top to bottom and everywhere in between, and stretched it out for as long as I could.

“Very good, boy, very good.”.

And then I gagged. (I never gag.)

“WHAT are you doing, boy! How dare you spoil my pleasure like that! Stand up!”

I stood up.

“Now, down with those shorts and bloomers! You need to be punished!”

(I was getting another hard-on.)

I stepped out of the shorts and took the bloomers off.

“Over there, bend over the table! Now!”

I decide to mince over, and I stick my arse out as far as a can.

He walks across and strokes my buttocks.

“So lovely, so lovely…”

Thwack!

The cane comes down on my left buttock, hard enough to hurt.

“Ouch!”

“QUIET!!”

It hits my right buttock, I stifle a cry, and I’m so hard again I think my cock might break.

Three more blows on each buttock; my cock can hardly stand it.

“That should do, boy. What do you say?”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I should think so.”

I start to get up.

“DO NOT MOVE!”

I freeze.

I hear the cane fall to the ground, followed by a couple of footsteps. Two hands pull my buttocks apart and it feels like Mr. Tippet is ripping my arse with the force of his thrust.

I shudder and let out a sort of scream.

“Be quiet and take it, boy. You’ve had it before, haven’t you?”, he hisses.

He’s so rough and forceful that he comes in a few thrusts, and I come almost at the same time.

“There”, he says while he’s still inside me. “This part of the lesson is over. Now go get your clothes from the front, run upstairs and change.”

I must have looked disappointed as he added: “Don’t worry sweetie, you can be my adorable little schoolboy again soon!. And by the way, retouch your makeup for me, there’s a good boy!”

I gather my things and literally run up the stairs. I’m so high on the whole thing that I almost trip. I really don’t want to take the uniform off, but I hang it on a coat hanger on the wardrobe door, place the boater, shoes and socks below it, make myself ready, redo my makeup, and head toward the stairs. I’m still feeling fuckable, so on the spur of the moment I go back to the room, take off my PVC pants, and tie my red top so it’s (just) hiding my butt and panties. I swish down the hall and am about to sway down the stairs when I brake hard at the banister.