Forbidden Ball

I stood in the nearly empty gym, unable to tear my eyes away from his back. His damp t-shirt clung to his muscles as he tossed the ball through the hoop. My heart was pounding like I'd just run ten laps. Every step he took sent a warm tremor straight through my stomach. We were alone. The last students had left ten minutes ago, and the security guard was already jangling his keys by the entrance.

"Lisa, you're still here?" he asked without turning around. His voice was low, a little raspy from exhaustion.

I swallowed hard.

"Just... finishing my stretching, Artyom Vladimirovich."

He turned. The young PE teacher every girl in my class secretly just called Artyom. Twenty-eight years old, but with the same spark in his eyes as us. His gaze slid down my bare legs in their short shorts, lingered on my chest under the thin tank top. I felt my nipples harden instantly.

He stepped closer. The ball slipped from his hands and rolled slowly toward my feet. I bent down to grab it. My fingers accidentally brushed his palm as we both reached at the same time. An electric shock shot through me from my fingertips to the pit of my stomach.

"Sorry..." I whispered, but I didn't pull my hand away.

"Don't apologize," he said quietly. His thumb traced across my palm. Slowly. Deliberately. "You know what you've been doing to me for the past two months."

I looked up. His pupils were huge.

"I know," I breathed out. My voice was shaking. "And I don't care that you're my teacher."

He pulled me into him. Our bodies collided. I felt his cock already hard and pressing against my stomach through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. The heat of his skin burned through my clothes.

"Then lock the door, Lisa," he said hoarsely. "And come back."

I ran to the exit, clicked the lock shut. My heart was ready to burst out of my chest. When I came back, he'd already pulled off his shirt. His chest glistened with sweat. I walked up and ran my palms over his stomach. Hot, smooth skin.

"I've wanted to touch you for so long..." I admitted, looking into his eyes.

"Then touch me. Everywhere."

He grabbed me under my thighs and sat me on the edge of the bench press. Spread my knees apart. His fingers slid under the hem of my shorts, pushing aside the fabric of my panties. I was already completely soaked. He ran two fingers along my slit, spreading the wetness.

"God, you're so hot..." he whispered, and slowly pushed two fingers inside me.

I arched my back, gripping his shoulders.

"Artyom... deeper..."

He started moving his hand, sometimes slow, sometimes rough, watching me tremble. With his other hand he pulled off my tank top, freeing my breasts. My nipples were instantly in his mouth. He sucked them greedily, biting lightly, while I moaned and squirmed on his fingers.

"I want you inside me," I breathed out when I couldn't take it anymore. "Right now."

He pulled off my shorts along with my panties. I was completely naked on the cold bench. Artyom stripped off his pants. His cock sprang free—thick, with a swollen head, already wet with precum. I wrapped my hand around it, stroked up and down. He growled.

The first time he entered me, it was hard, one single thrust. I cried out at the sudden fullness. He froze, letting me adjust.

"You okay?" he asked, breathing heavily into my neck.

"Yeah... fuck me... please."

He started moving. Slow at first, deep, letting me feel every inch. Then faster. The bench creaked beneath us. My legs wrapped around his hips. Every thrust made my tits bounce. He looked down, watching his wet, glistening cock slide in and out of my smooth pussy.

"Turn around," he said suddenly.

I obediently got on all fours, bracing myself on the bench. He entered me from behind, one hand squeezing my breast, the other gripping my hair. Now the pace was different—rough, fast. The slap of our bodies echoed through the whole gym. I was moaning without any restraint now.

"Deeper... harder... I'm so close..."

He leaned down, bit my shoulder, and sped up. His balls slapped against my soaked slit. I felt everything inside me tightening.

"Cum on me," I breathed out. "I want to feel you cum."

He pulled out, flipped me onto my back, and thrust back inside, in one final frantic rhythm. A few seconds later he froze, buried deep. I felt the hot pulse—thick streams of cum flooding me. That was the last straw. My orgasm crashed over me in a wave, I clenched around him, trembling all over.

We froze, gasping for air. His forehead pressed against mine. Then he suddenly laughed softly—light, almost boyish.

"I think I just fucked my best student on a bench press," he said, still inside me.

I laughed too, feeling his cock twitch slightly from the laughter.

"And I think I just came so hard I can't feel my legs."

He kissed me on the nose, then on the lips—gently, without the earlier urgency.

"Then I'll have to carry you to the shower. Ten minutes before closing."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered:

"Carry me. Just don't pull out yet... I like having you inside."

He smiled, scooped me up in his arms, still joined, and carried me across the dimly lit gym. Our mixed juices ran down my thighs, and all I felt was the warmth of his skin and the lightness that had finally come after two months of secret longing.