TABOO:BATION — 50 SHADES OF FORBIDDEN SHORTS novel Chapter 46

SEX ED: TRAINING TEN HARD STUDENTS

My body felt heavy and sensitive, every nerve ending firing like a live wire.

“Two left,” I panted inside my head, my chest rising and falling.

Student 9: Nathan

Nathan was the shyest boy in the class. He walked up with his head down, but his body told a different story. He was thick and heavy, his cock a dark, pulsing weight. He climbed onto the desk, his hands trembling as he touched my knees.

“I… I’ve been watching,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I want to do it right.”

“Do it, Nathan. You can,” I urged, guiding him in.

Nathan didn’t just push; he sank into me. He was warm and wide, stretching me in a way that felt like a slow burn. He started a very slow, deep rhythm. He moved like he wanted to feel every single ridge inside me, keeping the pace steady and slow.

“Yess… Nathan… mmm–hmmm… yesss…” I moaned.

I narrowed my eyes, watching his face. He was biting his lip so hard his chin was turning white. His eyes were closed tight, his eyelashes wet with sweat. Every time he pushed deep, he let out a soft, whimpering moan. “Nnnngh… ohhh… teacher…”

“That’s it, Nathan. All the way. That’s how it’s done.” 2

He increased the speed, his breath coming in hot, desperate puffs. The friction was incredible. It was a soft, wet sliding that made my toes curl. I felt a climax building–a sweet, localized heat. I arched my back, my fingers digging into his forearms.

Grrrrrrrr! The alarm.

“Time,” I gasped, just as he started to pick up the pace.

“No… please… ahhh!” Nathan pulled out, looking like he was in physical pain. He stood by the desk, his cock still standing at full attention, dripping onto the floor. He joined the rest. “And the last: Julian.”

Student 10: Julian

Julian was the last. He was the most athletic boy in school, a star runner. He didn’t wait. He stepped between my legs and grabbed my waist with a grip like iron. His cock was long, straight, and hard as a bone. He slammed in.

“Fuck! Julian!”

He started a fast, punishing pace immediately. It was a sprinter’s rhythm. Slap. Slap. Slap. He was hitting my cervix with every lunge, his pelvis hitting mine so hard the desk rattled.

“Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh! Harder!!” I shrieked.

Julian didn’t talk. He was looking me straight in the eyes, his own eyes dark and focused. He was biting his tongue, his face laced with intense concentration. I felt my eighth climax of the day hitting me like a

train without brakes.

“OHHHH GOD! AHHHH!”

I shook in his arms, my walls clamping down on him in a violent shiver. Julian let out a roar, his body jerking, but he didn’t pull out until the very last second.

Grrrrrrrr! The alarm.

“Time,” I whispered, my voice almost gone.

“Your reward,” I whispered, “is the final session. No clock. No five–minute limit. You finish when you’re done. Do it like a professional. Give me your best work!”

I was biting my lip, my eyes rolling back. The sensation was overwhelming. Having one man inside me while nine others watched and stroked themselves created an energy in the room that was electric.

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