Anjali Sharma was the kind of Indian teacher who made every guy in her college class stare. Thick black hair tied in a tight bun, dark eyes behind glasses, and a body that her sarees couldn't hide—big heavy tits, wide hips, and an ass that jiggled when she walked. At 34 she was strict as hell, always barking orders and failing slackers. Rahul, 19, sat in the front row and couldn't stop thinking about bending her over the desk.
One afternoon after class, Rahul stayed behind. "Miss Sharma, I need help with my paper," he said, but his eyes were on her cleavage as she leaned over his desk.
Anjali caught him staring. "You think I don't notice you drooling over me every day, Rahul? Dirty little pervert." She didn't sound angry. Her voice dropped low. "Lock the door."
He did. When he turned around she had pulled her saree pallu down. Her blouse was open, those fat brown tits spilling out, nipples hard and dark. "You want this? Then get on your knees and eat my cunt like you mean it."
Rahul dropped fast. Anjali hiked up her saree, yanked her panties aside, and shoved his face between her thick thighs. She was already wet, pussy lips thick and shaved smooth except for a small strip. "Lick it, boy. Suck on my clit."
He tongue-fucked her hard, tasting her salty juices, nose buried in her bush. Anjali grabbed his hair and ground against his mouth. "That's it. Fuck yes. Make your teacher cum." She came quick, thighs squeezing his head, moaning loud in Hindi mixed with English. "Aur zor se… fuck, yes!"
She pulled him up and bent over her own desk, ass up, saree bunched at her waist. "Fuck me raw, Rahul. Shove that cock in my married pussy." Rahul freed his dick—thick, veiny, already leaking—and slammed into her from behind. She was tight and hot inside. He pounded her hard, balls slapping her ass, the desk creaking.
"Harder, you little bastard," Anjali growled. "Stretch my cunt. Fill your teacher's hole." Rahul grabbed her hips and railed her, sweat dripping, the wet smack of skin on skin filling the empty classroom. He reached around and pinched her nipples, making her moan louder.
She came again, pussy clenching around his cock. "Cum inside me. Do it now." Rahul grunted and unloaded deep, pumping rope after rope of thick cum into her. It leaked out around his shaft as he kept thrusting through it.
After that they met every week. Sometimes in her office, sometimes the supply room. Anjali would text him: "Come fuck me after class. Wear no underwear." Rahul would show up, pull her saree off, and bend her over whatever was handy. She loved it dirty—spreading her ass cheeks so he could tongue her asshole, then beg him to fuck it. "Put it in my gaand, Rahul. Stretch my tight Indian ass."
He'd spit on her hole and push in slow at first, then pound until she screamed. She milked his cock with her ass muscles until he filled her guts with cum. Other times she dropped to her knees in the middle of the room, tits out, and sucked him sloppy, gagging on his dick, spit running down her chin onto her blouse. "Cum on my face, student. Mark your teacher like the slut she is."
One rainy evening they stayed late. Anjali stripped completely, dark skin glowing under the fluorescent lights. She climbed on top of him on the floor, sinking her soaked cunt down on his cock. "Watch your dick disappear in me," she ordered, riding him slow then fast, those heavy tits bouncing in his face. Rahul sucked her nipples hard while she ground her clit against him. She came shaking, then kept riding until he pumped another load up into her womb.
They never got caught, but the risk made it hotter. Anjali would whisper filthy things during class like "After this, you're going to bend me over and wreck my holes again." Rahul would nod, already hard, knowing his strict Indian teacher was his personal cumdump the second the bell rang.
By the end of the semester Anjali was letting him fuck her in her car in the parking lot, windows fogged, her moans loud as he drilled her from behind on the backseat. "Don't stop. Use me. I'm your dirty teacher whore." Rahul kept going until both of them were spent, cum dripping down her thighs onto the seat.
Every session ended the same: Anjali satisfied, leaking his loads, already planning the next time she'd let her student use her body however he wanted.
