Student & Teacher: Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Campfire Secrets and Forbidden Fingers**

The Pinewood Forest camping trip was supposed to be a wholesome escape--two nights under the stars, a school tradition for juniors and their families. Mrs. Vanessa Larson hadn't planned to come, but her husband, Greg, insisted, dragging their son, Tyler, along. She wore a tight green tank top, thin enough that her braless tits bounced with every step, nipples poking through like horny little beacons. Her khaki shorts were cut so high her ass cheeks peeked out, the denim fraying against her thighs, a neon pink thong flashing when she bent over. Greg sported cargo shorts and a faded tee, his gut softer than it used to be, while Tyler, sixteen like Ethan, rocked a black hoodie and jeans, glued to his phone.

Ethan showed up solo, tent pitched near the edge of the site, never expecting her there. He'd come to escape the guilt of fucking his teacher--her married pussy still haunting his jerk-off sessions--but seeing her strut around in that outfit, tits jiggling, reignited his obsession. Night fell, the air sharp with pine and smoke, and Greg, oblivious to their history, waved Ethan over to their campfire.

"Join us, kid! Vanessa says you're her star pupil," he boomed, grinning.

Ethan hesitated--his cock twitched at her name--but Vanessa chimed in. "Come on, Ethan, you're all alone out there," she said, her voice firm, her eyes dodging his, pretending Halloween never happened.

He relented, dragging his chair over, the fire crackling between them. They laughed and joked--school stories, dumb pranks--everyone loose and easy. Vanessa shivered as the cold bit deeper, her tank top useless against the chill, nipples stiffening. Ethan offered to help Greg with dinner--hot dogs and beans over the fire--catching glimpses of her as he worked. She hugged herself, tits squished, shorts riding up to show her thong's outline. He hatched a plan: every time Greg turned to flip a dog or grab a beer, Ethan leaned close.

"You're fuckin' irresistible tonight, Mrs. L," he whispered.

She laughed it off. "Behave, Ethan," she said, but her cheeks flushed, her pussy tingling despite herself.

Dinner done, they huddled by the fire, the cold sinking into their bones. Greg wore a thin jacket over his tee, Tyler shivered in his hoodie, and Vanessa sneezed, her tits bouncing with each jolt. Ethan bolted to his tent, grabbing a thick wool blanket--gray, scratchy, big enough for two.

"Here," he said, draping it over her shoulders.

She smiled. "Thanks, kid," she replied, wrapping it tight, the fabric brushing her nipples through the tank top.

He sat beside her, close to Greg on her other side, and tugged the blanket over himself too, their thighs touching under it. Tyler sat across, phone glowing, oblivious, while Greg rambled about fishing. Ethan's hand moved slow under the blanket, fingers grazing her bare knee, then sliding up her thigh. She giggled at his jokes--louder now, nervous--and didn't notice at first, too caught up in his rizz.

"You're the hottest teacher alive," he murmured, low enough for only her, his breath hot on her ear.

Her son laughed at something Greg said, and Ethan's hand crept higher, brushing her shorts' hem. She swatted him, thinking it a playful nudge. "Cut it out," she said, but her voice was shaky, her cunt waking up.

Greg launched into a long, dull story--a car breakdown from '09--and everyone leaned in, distracted. Ethan seized the chance, unzipping his shorts under the blanket, his cock springing free--thick, hard, precum beading. He grabbed her hand, soft and warm, and clamped it on his dick, forcing her fingers around it. She jolted, eyes wide.

"Stop--my husband's right here, you fuck!" she whispered.

But he held her wrist, stroking himself with her hand, slow and firm. Her heart raced, trapped--scream, and they'd all see. She froze, his cock pulsing in her grip, her pussy soaking her thong against her will. He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear.

"You feel so good, Mrs. L--I'd fuck you right here if I could," he said.

She turned her head, dodging a kiss. "No--stop it!" she hissed, but her hand stayed, jerking him under his grip, her body betraying her.

Greg stood. "Gotta piss," he said, stumbling to a tree ten feet away, leaving Tyler engrossed in his phone.

Ethan unzipped her shorts--silent, sly--sliding his free hand inside, fingers finding her drenched cunt. She gasped, clamping her mouth shut, pushing at him under the blanket, but he pumped two fingers deep, curling into her G-spot.

"You're my dirty little secret," he purred, rizzing her hard, her pussy gushing as she fought to stay quiet.

Tyler glanced up. "Ethan, you into girls yet?" he asked.

Ethan grinned. "Oh, I like 'em hot--like your mom. She's fuckin' sexy, man," he replied.

Tyler laughed. "Gross, dude," he said, oblivious as Ethan fingered Vanessa's cunt, her hand still stroking his cock.

She shoved at him when Tyler looked down. "Get off me!" she whispered.

But he kissed her neck, lips wet, and came--hot cum spurting over her fingers, sticky and thick. She yanked her hand free, sniffing it quick--musky, filthy--wiping it on her shorts as Greg trudged back, clueless. Ethan kept fingering her, slow and deep, her pussy clenching. Greg sat, chatting about how he met Vanessa.

"She was a virgin, pure as snow, 'til I got her. Been faithful ever since," he said.

Ethan smirked, knowing he'd fucked her first, his fingers proving it now. She bit her arm, muffling a moan, cumming hard--juices soaking his hand, her body trembling. He pulled out when Greg looked away, smearing her cum on her nose and lips. She glared, disgusted, humiliated--*How did I let him again?*--but her cunt throbbed, betraying her faithful lie.

Greg yawned. "Bedtime," he said, heading to their tent with Tyler.

Vanessa muttered. "I need a bath," she said, grabbing a towel and soap, heading to the forest stream.

Ethan waited, then crept after her, phone out, recording. She stripped under the moonlight--tank top off, tits bouncing free, shorts and thong down, her shaved pussy glistening. She washed, water cascading over her curves, oblivious as he jerked off behind a tree, filming every second, cum splattering the dirt. She finished, robed in a thin white silk wrap, and returned to her tent. Greg left to bathe, and Ethan slipped inside, silent as a shadow. She turned, thinking it was Greg, and kissed him--soft, then hungry, her tongue in his mouth. He groaned, her robe falling open, and he sucked her tits--nipples hard, wet from the stream--then dropped lower, licking her pussy, clit swollen.

"Fuck, Greg, you're wild tonight," she moaned, suspicious but horny.

He pulled his cock out--huge, thicker than Greg's--and slid it into her wet cunt, slow and deep, her gasp echoing as he fucked her, rizzing. "You're my everything, Mrs. L," he said.

She froze--his voice wasn't right--but he thrust harder, and her resistance melted into moans, the tent a den of sin.