Misc. Erotica Swathi an innocent teacher

[rathikreeda]

Part 7: Close Enough to Burn
Scene: The Equipment Room
It was Thursday — another prep day for the department’s inter-college seminar. Swathi was coordinating a demo involving a projector setup and some old lab equipment stored in the back room — a narrow, dusty space lined with shelves and forgotten models.
She had left the door half-closed to avoid the student crowd passing by.
Ajay appeared with a knock that he didn’t wait for her to answer.
“Need help?” he asked, stepping in, hands in his pockets. “I saw you carrying the HDMI cables.”
Swathi sighed, crouched in front of a box, saree pulled tight over her hips. “You’ve got nothing better to do?”
Ajay leaned against the doorframe, eyes scanning her lower back. “Nothing better than watching you crawl around in a saree.”
“Charming,” she said dryly, pulling out a coiled cord.
He stepped closer. “You know I mean it.”
“You don’t know how close you are to a disciplinary letter,” she replied, standing now, turning toward him.
Ajay didn’t move.
Neither did she.
The small space between them throbbed with heat. Her chest rose and fell with her breath. The scent of her perfume mixed with dust and electricity in the stale air.
His eyes dipped — to her waist, her breasts, the curve of her lips.
Swathi crossed her arms, subtly pressing her breasts together in the tight blouse. “You came to help. Then help.”
He reached out — slow, deliberate — and took the cord from her hands. But his fingers brushed hers. Then didn’t leave.
They stood there for a heartbeat too long.
Swathi’s lips parted, just slightly.
Ajay’s voice was quiet. “You’re not stopping me.”
She stepped back — barely.
“That’s because I’m watching.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Watching what?”
“How close you’re getting to something you can’t handle.”
Then, calmly, she turned, bent down again — deliberately, this time — to pick up another wire, her ass rising inches from his waist.
He stood frozen.
Want pulsing in his jaw.
She didn’t say another word. Just walked past him, brushing his chest lightly as she left the room.
His cock pressed hard against his jeans the entire walk back to his class.

---

Scene: Nightfall / Swathi & Rahul – The Unleashing
Swathi sat on the bed that night wearing nothing but one of Rahul’s old cotton shirts — oversized, the buttons barely done, nipples showing faintly through the worn fabric.
He walked in late, exhausted — and immediately stopped in his tracks.
“Fuck,” he muttered, closing the door behind him. “You know what that shirt does to me.”
“I do,” she said, crawling on all fours across the bed. “That’s why I’m wearing it.”
He grabbed her the moment she reached him, spinning her around and pushing her onto the bed, face down. The shirt rode up, revealing her bare ass.
“No panties?” he growled.
“Nope.”
He slapped her ass — hard, skin flushing pink. She yelped, biting her lip, loving it.
Another slap. Then a grab — both hands kneading her ass roughly before he dipped between her thighs, parting them.
“So wet,” he muttered, dragging his tongue slowly up her pussy from behind, tasting her. “Jesus, Swathi…”
She moaned into the pillow, back arching.
He turned her over, pulling her legs apart, then unbuttoned the shirt one-handed. Her breasts spilled out — full, soft, nipples hard and needy.
Rahul dove in — sucking one nipple deeply into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, moaning into her skin. His hand slapped the other breast gently before massaging it in slow, deep circles.
“Your tits drive me insane,” he groaned, switching sides, biting down lightly on the other.
She tangled her fingers in his hair, guiding him lower.
“Eat me,” she whispered. “Properly.”
Rahul didn’t hesitate. He slid down, spread her thighs wide, and buried his face in her soaked cunt — tongue flat against her clit, licking in slow, torturous circles.
“Fuuuck, yes…” she moaned, hips rolling.
He flicked faster, then sucked her clit between his lips, fingers sliding into her pussy in rhythm — curling, thrusting, dragging her closer to orgasm.
She came hard — body clenching, legs shaking, her cries echoing into the room.
But he wasn’t done.
Rahul climbed over her, his cock thick and twitching, sliding the head along her slit before pushing in, inch by inch.
“Still so tight,” he groaned, thrusting all the way in.
He held her legs high, pounding her deep, wet slaps echoing off the walls.
“Fuck me harder,” she gasped.
He obeyed — grabbing her throat gently with one hand, fucking her rougher, deeper, faster. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and he watched them greedily before bending to suck one nipple again while fucking her harder.
Then he pulled out.
“Get on your knees,” he ordered.
Swathi obeyed, presenting her ass, looking back over her shoulder. “Take it.”
He spanked her again — harder — then slid into her from behind, grabbing her waist, slamming into her.
Their bodies moved like fire — slick, hot, uncontrolled.
She came again, shaking, and he followed soon after, spilling inside her with a long, shuddering groan.
They collapsed, tangled and soaked, the shirt clinging to her skin, his cum dripping down her thighs.
For a long while, they lay there — breathing in sync.
Rahul kissed her neck.
“You still love teasing them?”
Swathi smiled into the pillow.
“Only because you fuck me like this afterward.”