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“I think I see a flask,” one of the other teachers pointed out.

I glanced where she was indicating. It was one of the football players. Typical.

All of the other chaperones looked at me, and I didn’t blame them. I was the best candidate to confront drunk teenage guys, to make them submit rather than escalating the nonsense. Being bigger than most of them helped.

I sighed. At least I hadn’t missed her grand entrance.

I went and took care of it.

It was a good twenty minutes later, five kids ejected from the dance, before I was able to scan the room for her again.

I caught sight of her quickly. She was in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with a bunch of giggling girls.

I was instantly relieved. I didn’t want to know what I’d do if I saw her dancing with, or getting close to, some punk teenage boy.

I was standing behind one of our APs, Ms. Stanford, as she manned the refreshment table, basically giving her backup in case someone wanted to spike the drinks.

Nova and her all girl posse approached, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She kept stealing shy little adoring glances at me, and it took all I had not to jump her right there. I had to straight up stop looking at her, but looking at her friends was worse. They were sending me similar, smitten stares, which were not welcome as I was emphatically not interested.

I did wonder with a touch of hostility which one was Michelle, but they all sort of looked the same to me.

No student had ever caught my eye even slightly before Nova.

I was heading back from the restroom sometime later when Nova walked past me in the hallway. She didn’t even look at me, just passed me a note as we walked by each other.

I stopped in my tracks, watching her retreating back, but she didn’t look at me.

I glanced at the note.

Meet me in the coach’s office in 30 minutes. I want you to mess me up. Make sure the door is unlocked for me.

It flipped a switch in me. I found myself instantly getting hard. It was such a bad idea, but I didn’t even consider turning her down.

Who the fuck would?

Instead, I made plans. Very specific ones.

I went back to the gymnasium, timed out thirty minutes by counting each one, made the most half-assed of excuses, and left again.

I jumped her the second she walked into the office, pinning her face down on my desk. I pulled up the layers of her dress, fingers seeking her, finding her cunt. The moment I confirmed she was wet, it was game on.

I didn’t undress either of us, just took out my dick and pushed her panties to the side.

She was soft and compliant, utterly submissive as I held her down and fed my cock into her. I’d been breaking her in good, but she was still tight as ever and entering her was an overwhelming, bracing, glorious stretch. It was almost too much and precisely enough.

I punched deep and pulled out to the very tip without pausing, again and again, giving it to her as hard and deep and no holds barred as I needed it.

I was fucking the brains out of a perfect teenage princess. It was lurid. Tasteless. Out of line. And I couldn’t get enough.

I also couldn’t keep my mouth shut, couldn’t keep in all the filthy things that I knew would get her off the fastest. “You little cum slut. You love this, don’t you? Giving it up on prom night like the little fuck toy you are. Just don’t forget, you’re my fuck toy.”

She really got off on that. Literally. She came, and I kept going in a perfect tireless tempo of flesh pounding flesh.

I had her shoulder pinned down with one hand, the other buried in her hair, pulling it as roughly as I was fucking her. Her perfect prom hair was unsalvageable, and I couldn’t make myself stop.

It was so good, and I didn’t last long past that. A heavy, pressurized tide inside of me was set free, and I came like a furious wave breaking. I held her down and clinched tight inside of her as I let go.

I kissed her neck and stayed on top of her back, her cunt milking my dick, every last jerk. I stayed like that for a long time as I recovered from one of the most powerful orgasms of my life.