somerealnerd

  The room was a convincing knockoff of a rundown cssroom—rows of scratched wooden desks shoved carelessly against the peeling walls, their surfaces etched with old doodles and initials; a chalkboard streaked with faded equations, the ghostly white dust still clinging to its edges. Tammy owned the space, rocking that JK uniform like she’d stepped out of an anime frame—a crisp sailor blouse hugging her curves, the navy colr stark against her pale skin, and a pleated skirt hiked high on her thighs, fshing those firm, perky cheeks with every subtle shift of her hips. The camera’s lens buzzed to life, capturing it all in crisp detail—softboxes flooding the room with harsh white light, carving deep shadows across her smooth legs, while the sunset seeped through the window, a rich orange haze pooling over the scuffed floorboards, gilding her knee-high white socks in a warm glow. It transformed the setup into a steamy cssroom fantasy—too damn real, like some after-hours detention turned filthy, the kind of scene that’d leave any perv sck-jawed, pants straining at the seams.

  Propped on a tripod just behind John’s shoulder, the camera angled down sharp—pure POV, casting him as the towering king of this twisted little game. Tammy knelt halfway on the floor, her body a mix of poise and sprawl—knees spyed wide, skirt fanning out around her upturned ass, the blouse tugging low to reveal a deep, creamy cleavage that quivered faintly with each breath. She tilted her head back, her big eyes locking onto his—wide, wet, and shimmering with staged innocence—and unched into her act. “No, Sensei—Uravity-chan’s already got a boyfriend,” she whimpered, her voice soft and tremulous, a pitch-perfect anime plea that nded like a teasing dart straight to his gut. John cmped his mouth shut—but his mind roared: What the hell’s with this cheesy line? Why’s it got me so damn hard I can’t even think? Still, he had to hand it to her—Tammy nailed it. Her makeup was Uravity brought alive: cheeks brushed with bubblegum-pink blush, high and rosy as if freshly spanked, lips glistening with slick gloss that caught the light with every soft pucker, eyelids dusted with a faint golden shimmer that fred each time she batted them—sweet yet slutty, a cospy dream begging to be wrecked.

  John’s thoughts stalled, his gaze drifting over her—those perky cheeks peeking from under the skirt, the faint jiggle of her cleavage, the way the sunset painted her skin like honey. He was half-lost in it when Tammy’s fingers brushed his pant leg, a light, deliberate tug that grazed his calf through the denim, snapping him back with a flicker of heat up his spine. Her eyes narrowed, a silent get it together as she gave a sharper pull.

  “Oh—uh, yeah, got it,” he mumbled, voice cracking like a kid caught staring too long, his head still swimming.

  Tammy’s patience snapped—she surged up, skirt fring to fsh those creamy thighs, blouse straining as she rose, and delivered a quick, sharp smack to his forehead with the ft of her hand, the sound bouncing off the walls. John flinched but didn’t dodge, too wired, his hands hovering dumbly as he yelped, “Ow—what?!”

  She loomed over him, hands on hips, her chest heaving under the tight fabric. “Who’s the teacher here, you or me? In this scene, you’re Sensei—supposed to punish me, the bad little student. Get it?” she snapped, her tone cutting through the haze. John nodded—he understood, sure as hell—but knowing the role and pying it were worlds apart.

  Rubbing his stinging forehead, he muttered, “How about we switch—you be Sensei?” Tammy’s eyes bzed, and she swung again—whack—nailing his forehead with a sting that echoed. “I’m already in this damn uniform, you moron! Why didn’t you say that sooner?!” John winced, grinning sheepishly as he massaged the spot. “Okay, okay—how about you come kiss me a couple times, help me feel it?” His voice dipped, a hint of hunger sneaking in—kissing was his weakness, that wet, messy closeness that always got his blood pumping. Tammy froze, her jaw dropping slightly, caught between irritation and disbelief—the fuck’s wrong with him today?

  Her breath hitched, caught in a moment of stunned hesitation, before she rolled her eyes and muttered a grudging, “Fine.”

  Then she sprang into action—grabbing John’s shirt with a fierce tug, her fingers curling tight into the fabric. “Get over here, you needy bastard,” she growled, her voice a low, heated rasp, yanking him down as they sank to the floor together—his ass hitting the hardwood beside hers, her knees swinging around to straddle his hips, skirt fring up to bare those firm, perky cheeks grazing his thighs. Her lips crashed into his, hot and wet, a messy collision of tongues that filled the air with sloppy smacks—she sucked his bottom lip hard, dragging it between her teeth ‘til it stung, drool smearing between them in a sticky trail. Her hands didn’t wait—she cwed at his fly, nails scraping denim as she ripped it open with a jagged zip, shoving his pants down his thighs in one impatient tug. She fished out his throbbing penis—hard and heavy in her grip—and wrapped her fingers tight, pumping him slow and rough, her palm slicking up fast with his leaking precum, glossy streaks glistening on her knuckles as she worked him.

  Tammy leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear as she licked a slow, teasing stripe up the lobe, her tongue flicking wet and deliberate before sliding down to his neck—nipping the skin ‘til he hissed, a shiver jolting through him. “Call me Uravity-chan, you fuck,” she purred, her voice a husky taunt, lips brushing his ear as her hand kept stroking, steady and relentless, the wet schlick of his cock filling the room. John groaned—deep and guttural—his head tipping back as her touch lit him up, that mix of sloppy kisses and rough jerks hitting him like a damn drug. This was one of his favorite handjobs—those wet, tongue-heavy makeouts paired with a hand that knew how to work him raw, a combo that melted his brain every fucking time. Her grip tightened, precum dripping down her wrist now, and she smirked against his skin, knowing exactly how she was unraveling him.

  John was drowning in it—her lips, her hand, the heat coiling tight in his gut. One hand shot up, grabbing at her chest through the blouse, fingers digging into her soft, bouncy tits, squeezing harder and harder ‘til the fabric strained, threads popping faintly under his grip like it might rip any second. His other hand slid behind her head, tangling in her twin buns as he yanked her mouth back to his—lips smashing together again, wet and desperate, tongues wrestling with a hungry slurp. He broke off, trailing his mouth down—kissing a slow, sloppy line from her lips to her jaw, then lower, sucking at the tender skin of her neck ‘til it flushed pink, before veering to her ear, nipping the lobe with a low growl. Their breaths came heavy and ragged—his a deep, shuddering rumble, hers a quick, panting gasp—mixing with the wet smack-smack of his kisses echoing in the tight space, the air thick with sweat and need.

  Tammy tilted her head aside, neck bared as John’s lips worked her skin, her chest heaving under his rough grip. Between gasps, she murmured low, voice trembling with heat, “I love this too, babe—fuck, I do—but we’ve gotta finish the shoot. We can do this in my bedroom, another day.” John didn’t stop, his mouth pressing harder, teeth grazing her neck ‘til she squirmed, a ticklish, numbing shiver rippling through her—soft, needy moans slipping out, “Mmm… ahh…” She pushed on, voice breathy, “This’ll go out—everyone’ll see it. You need to own me, ravage me, babe—show ‘em I’m yours, keep those other filming creeps off my ass.” John’s rhythm slowed, his lips hovering over her pulse, a flicker of hesitation creeping in—his hand loosening on her tits, breath catching. Tammy’s eyes glinted, and she leaned closer, her whisper a sultry dagger against his ear, “Make my boyfriend see I’m yours—that you can freeuse me whenever you fucking want, while he’s stuck jerking off to the video.”

  That did it—her words torched the st shred of his restraint, igniting a possessive, dominant fire in his core. He knew he was maniputed, but didn’t care. He pulled back, locking eyes with her, a dark grin spreading as he rasped, “You’re a bad student, Uravity-chan,” his voice thick with intent, ready to cim every inch of her.

  John surged to his feet, towering over “Uravity-chan”—his hand snagged one of her twin buns, fingers twisting tight in the messy strands as he yanked her head forward. With a quick, brutal thrust, he shoved his cock deep, hitting bottom in one go—too fast, too sudden. “Uravity-chan”’s eyes widened, tears springing free in an instant, spilling down her cheeks as she choked, overwhelmed by the stretch and force. She thrashed, hands spping hard against his thighs—thud-thud—nails digging in, desperate to push him back, but John didn’t budge, pinning her there, his cock throbbing thick and hot in her throat. She gagged hard, her body tensing as the pulsing heat filled her—pain and a twisted rush cshing inside, her eyes starting to roll up, whites flickering beneath fluttering lids. Only then did John pull out—fast and slick—his cock sliding free with a wet pop, a glistening thread of spit and half-white, half-clear liquid stretching between her lips and him, dangling in the air before snapping. “Uravity-chan” coughed hard—raspy, ragged hacks—tears streaking from the corners of her eyes, her chest heaving as she sucked in air. Her face flickered with fear, voice shaky as she rasped, “Sensei, please don’t do this—I told you I’ve got a boy—” Before she could finish, John’s hands cmped her head firm, fingers digging into her scalp, and he thrust his cock back in, cutting her off mid-word.

  He started a relentless rhythm—one deep shove in, then out, over and over—the room filling with the wet, choked glurk-glurk of “Uravity-chan”’s throat and her muffled, broken cries: “Boy… f-friend…” The words stumbled out in fits and starts, garbled and faint—“B-boy…”—a gasp—“f-fri…”—cut by a gag—“end…”—barely audible as his cock slid past her tongue, her lips stretched tight around him. Tears streamed down her face now, unstoppable, carving wet paths over her flushed cheeks, but the gagging waves crashing through her sparked a wild, dizzying thrill—pleasure smming her senses one pulse after another. Half-lucid, half-lost, her mind spun: I fucking love this John—fuck, I love him. Her body trembled, caught between the ache and the high, her choked moans vibrating around him as he kept going, owning her completely.

  “Uravity-chan” was unraveling—her body shaking, beyond control. With a trembling hand, she grabbed the hem of her skirt, yanking it up higher—fabric bunching at her hips—to reveal the edge of her pink panties, soft and snug against her skin. Her fingers slipped beneath the waistband, diving into the damp heat as she started working herself—big, frantic motions, digging and rubbing hard, her hips bucking faintly against her own touch. Low, needy hums spilled from her throat—mmph, hngh—muffled by John’s cock still filling her mouth, her jaw stretched tight. She wanted to scream, to let it all out, but the gag choked it down to desperate, stifled whines vibrating against him. John caught every twitch—her flushed cheeks, the frantic rhythm of her hand—and grinned dark, pulling his dick free again with a slick pop, leaving her gasping. “Boyfriend, huh?” he taunted, voice low and mocking, wiping a bead of spit from his lip as he loomed over her.

  “Uravity-chan” blinked up at him, dazed—her hand stalling mid-motion, a single tear clinging to her shes as she registered his pause. “Your boyfriend waiting for you out there? Wanna ditch now and run to him?” John teased, his tone dripping with zy provocation, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he shifted his weight, casual but commanding. She swallowed hard, chest still heaving, and rasped, “Sensei, I—I wanna, uh, keep doing this. I’m a bad student.” Her voice cracked, thick with want, her wet lips parting as she stared up at him, pleading without moving. John didn’t reply—just stood there, silent and unyielding, his shadow falling over her. The camera’s lens stayed locked from above, framing the scene in stark detail: his cock covered in spit and precum glistening in the light, “Uravity-chan” kneeling on the hardwood below, her skirt hiked, panties askew, a picture of raw submission.

  “Uravity-chan” reached out, her trembling fingers wrapping around his cock—firm and slick in her grip—and brought it to her face, spping it against her cheek with a soft thwap. “Sensei, keep punishing me,” she breathed, her voice a sultry mix of defiance and need, smacking it again—thwap-thwap—the wet sound mingling with her shaky exhales as red bloomed faintly on her skin. John stayed quiet, his eyes narrowing, letting her stew in the silence. Desperate to spur him on, she went all in—her tongue darted out, pping at his dock from tip to base, slow and deliberate, tracing every inch with wet, sloppy strokes. She angled her head, sucking along the sides—slurp—her lips dragging over the length, then lower, kissing and licking his balls with a hungry schlick, her mouth hot and eager, coating them in a sheen of spit. She worked every angle—up, down, around—her tongue flicking and swirling, moans humming low in her throat as she pushed to reignite his fire, to beg for the punishment she craved without saying a word.

  John felt a dark satisfaction humming through him—her desperation, her submission, it was fucking perfect. He bent down, sliding his hands under “Uravity-chan”’s trembling frame, and scooped her up in one smooth lift—her slight weight warm against his chest, skirt fpping as he carried her to a nearby desk. He set her down hard, her back smming onto the scratched wooden surface with a dull thump, legs dangling off one end, head tipping back over the other, hair spilling wild across the edge. She y there, head upside-down, staring up at John’s inverted face—her big eyes glinting with a dizzy mix of fear and thrill, her toes barely scraping the floor for bance. Her hand stayed busy below, fingers slipping under her pink panties, flicking and rubbing herself with frantic little jerks, soft hngh-hngh moans leaking out as she teetered on the edge. John didn’t waste a breath—his punishment wasn’t done. Standing at her head, he gripped his cock and thrust it back into her mouth—deep and unyielding—then started rocking his hips like he was fucking her senseless, each snap driving it to the hilt, his balls smacking her face on the nose with a rhythmic sp-sp, the sound bouncing off the walls.

  “Uravity-chan” choked under him, the double chokehold brutal—his cock plugging her throat, his balls clogging her nose—every thrust a suffocating plunge that drowned her in raw, maddening sensation. Her chest heaved, air scarce, her body twitching as the overwhelming pressure pushed her to the brink—pain and pleasure twisting into a crazy, electric haze. She cwed at his shirt with one hand, yanking the fabric hard ‘til he bent forward—his head dipping low, pulled down to her crotch, the musky heat hitting him full force. John didn’t hesitate—his fingers hooked her panties, tugging them aside with a rough flick, exposing her dripping pussy. He dove in, tongue shing out to p at her button—quick, firm flicks that made her hips jolt—then closed his lips around her tender lips, sucking slow and deep, drawing out a flood of her juice that coated his mouth, tangy and slick. He drank it down, gulping audibly—glug-glug—before pressing his tongue hard, shoving it in deep, swirling and probing as her thighs quaked around his head, the wet schlick of his licks mixing with her muffled cries.

  “Uravity-chan”’s face was a wreck—ruined like a total mess. Tears streamed nonstop, carving messy trails down her temples into her tangled hair, her bubblegum-pink blush smeared into streaky patches, glossy lipstick smudged across her chin in a chaotic blur, golden shimmer from her eyelids now a glittery mess pooling under her eyes. She was a sobbing, moaning disaster—eyes half-rolled, shes clumped with wet, her breath ragged and broken between gags. Then it hit—both of them at once. John’s hips bucked hard, his cock pulsing as he unloaded everything—thick, hot bursts firing deep, too much, too fast. “Uravity-chan” couldn’t keep up—her throat spasmed, swallowing what she could, but the overflow gushed back, spilling out in reverse, trickling down his balls in sticky white rivulets that dripped onto her face, spttering her cheeks and forehead. More leaked from her nose—thin streams of it bubbling out with each choked gasp, mixing with her tears as her legs filed wildly in the air, toes curling, kicking in frantic spasms. Her own climax ripped through her—her hand froze mid-rub as she sprayed hard, a gushing arc of juice soaking the desk, spttering John’s chin as he licked, her body shuddering in a wild, uncontrolble high.

  John felt the rush still thrumming in his veins, a wild high fading into something quieter as he looked down at “Uravity-chan,” her trembling form sprawled across the desk. Slowly, he slid his hands under her—careful now, gentle—lifting her off the scratched wood, her body limp and warm in his arms. He eased her down to the floor, ying her ft on the cool hardwood beside him, her tangled hair fanning out like a messy halo. He sank down too, sitting close, one hand braced against the floor as his chest heaved, breaths coming deep and uneven, the air still thick with their mingled sweat. Tammy—her rolepy name shed now that the camera’s red light had blinked off—y beside him, one arm flung over her eyes, shielding them from the soft glow filtering through the window. Her breaths were ragged, a quick, shallow rhythm that matched the rise and fall of her chest, her blouse still askew, skirt crumpled around her thighs.

  John’s gaze lingered on her, a flicker of concern cutting through the haze of satisfaction. Had he gone too far? Been too rough? He shifted closer, voice low and tentative, “Tammy, you okay? Need anything—a towel, some water?” She didn’t speak, just gave a wave of her hand—fingers trembling slightly—signaling she was fine, nothing needed. Relief eased into him, softening the tension in his shoulders, but he wasn’t ready to let the moment slip away. That rush—her wild submission, the way she’d pushed him right back—had been damn near perfect, and he wanted to hold onto it a little longer. “Hey,” he started, a grin tugging at his lips, “how’d I do back there? Was it what you pictured? ‘Cause, shit, your acting was unreal—those dumb lines got me so fired up, Tammy, you’re fucking incredible.” His words spilled out, genuine and unguarded, his breath still catching as he repyed it in his head.

  Tammy didn’t answer—not with words. She jolted up suddenly, a blur of motion, and threw herself at him—arms wrapping tight around his neck, her weight crashing into him as she tackled him down. He hit the floor with a soft thud, her body pinning his, and before he could catch his breath, her lips found his—hot and fierce, a kiss that burned with the same passion they’d just poured out. Her tongue swept in, bold and hungry, tasting of salt and chaos, her hands clutching his shoulders like she’d never let go. John sank into it, his own hands sliding up her back, pressing her closer—lost in the heat, the rhythm of her racing pulse against his chest. But beneath the fire, something shifted—a quiet thread weaving through the storm, unspoken but heavy. Their breaths mingled, slowing now, and in that shared air, a closeness bloomed—not just want, but a tether, fragile and unspoken, pulling them tight in the fading light.