Selena – The Staff Room

A week had passed since their kitchen escapade, and the tension between Richard and Selena had only grown thicker. Every glance across the schoolyard, every brush of shoulders in the hallway, was a silent promise of more. It was Friday afternoon, and the school was quiet, most staff had bolted for the weekend. Richard had been called in to fix a leaky radiator in the staff room, and Selena, ever resourceful, volunteered to “help” with the cleanup.

The staff room was a cozy, cluttered space, old armchairs, a coffee-stained table, and a radiator that hissed like an angry cat. Richard knelt by it, wrench in hand, his broad shoulders flexing under a tight navy shirt. Selena sauntered in, locking the door behind her with a click that made his head snap up. She wore a low-cut red dress under her apron, the fabric clinging to her buxom figure like it was painted on. “Thought you might need a hand,” she said, her voice dripping with intent.

“Only if it’s yours,” Richard shot back, wiping sweat off his brow as he stood, towering over her. His eyes raked down her body, lingering on the deep V of her cleavage. “That dress oughta be illegal in a school.” She smirked, stepping closer, her heels clicking on the linoleum. “Good thing the kids are gone, then. No one to tell on us.”

She didn’t waste time. Grabbing his shirt, she pulled him down for a kiss, hot, messy, and full of pent-up need. Richard groaned into her mouth, hands sliding to her ass, squeezing through the dress as he backed her against the table. “Been thinking about you all week,” he muttered, nipping her lip. “That kitchen fuck’s been replaying in my head.” Selena’s laugh was wicked. “Let’s give you something new to obsess over.”

She shoved him into an armchair, the springs creaking under his weight, and straddled him, her dress riding up to reveal black lace knickers. Richard’s hands were on her thighs in an instant, pushing the fabric higher. “No bra again?” he asked, voice rough, as he tugged the neckline down. Her heavy breasts spilled out, nipples already hard, and he latched onto one, sucking greedily while his hand kneaded the other. Selena moaned, grinding against the bulge in his jeans. “Wanted you ready for me,” she gasped.

He fumbled with his fly, freeing his cock, still as impressive as she remembered, thick and pulsing. She didn’t bother with her knickers, just yanked them aside and sank onto him, taking him to the hilt in one slick slide. “Fuck, Selena,” he growled, gripping her hips as she started to ride him, her tits bouncing in his face. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his shoulders, and set a brutal pace, chasing that sweet friction against her again.

The chair rocked dangerously, but neither cared. Richard thrust up to meet her, his cock slamming deep, hitting that spot that made her eyes roll back. “You’re a bloody menace,” he panted, one hand slipping between them to rub her clit. Selena’s moans turned to cries, her nails digging into him. “Harder, you bastard, make me come again!” He obliged, pounding into her, the wet slap of their bodies filling the room.

Her orgasm crashed over her fast, a shuddering, screaming mess as she clenched around him, soaking his lap. “Richard, oh, fuck, yes!” she wailed, trembling as he kept thrusting, drawing it out until she was a boneless heap against him. He wasn’t far behind, two more deep strokes, and he came with a guttural groan, spilling inside her, his hands locked on her hips like he’d never let go.

They stayed there, panting, her forehead pressed to his, the radiator still hissing in the background. “Think we broke the chair,” Richard chuckled, kissing her sweat-damp neck. Selena grinned, shifting to feel him still inside her. “Worth it. Next time, your van, I wanna see how you handle me in the back.” He smirked, already hard again at the thought. “Deal, love. Maintenance just got a lot more fun.”