My ex came looking for me, and three students filmed everything

The truth is, I still don’t fully understand what happened. How do you mean it’s over? I never saw that one coming. I never imagined you could love someone else more than me, even if it was in a different way. Sometimes cheating isn’t about skin: it’s about time, about glances that no longer look for yours. And that’s how it was.

After that, you stopped talking to me. I didn’t want to push either, out of pride, but I missed you the way you miss a habit. I felt lonely in that apartment that was far too big. Thank God my friends dragged me out, that work filled my hours. I taught at the university three afternoons a week, and that saved me from thinking.

And then, once again, you showed up.

You knew it was wrong. I suppose the rumors had reached you. The thing is, one Tuesday you picked me up at the classroom door, as if we had never broken up, as if your girlfriend didn’t exist. Since you’d been with her, I had no expectations of anything. But that day was different from the very first second.

—Get in —you said, simply, with the car double-parked.

I didn’t ask where we were going. I rode with you in silence to a part of campus I didn’t even know: an inner courtyard behind the old Humanities building, where classes were already over and only brick walls remained, and an orange light came in from the side. You cut the engine. You looked at me in that way that always undid me.

You shoved me against the wall before I could say a word. And you kissed me. One of those kisses that have been stored away for months, with rage and desire packed into the same gesture. I felt your hands move up my waist, squeeze my tits over the fabric until a gasp escaped into your mouth, and I knew I was already lost, that I’d let you do anything if only I wouldn’t feel alone again that night. You slid a hand under my dress, yanked my panties aside, and ran two fingers through my cunt from bottom to top, checking how soaked I was just from seeing you.

—Look at what you do to yourself —you whispered, and you smeared my lips with my own juices before kissing me again.

Your phone rang. It was her; I knew it by the way your jaw tightened. You silenced it without looking and came back to my mouth.

She can wait.

That day I was wearing a dress, a short one, the kind you hated me wearing to teach in. You knelt in front of me. You lifted the fabric with both hands, pulled my panties down to my ankles, and got between my legs with that slowness you know by heart. I rested my head against the cold brick and closed my eyes when your tongue parted my pussy lips and found my clit with the tip, circling slowly. You licked me all over, from top to bottom, pushing your tongue inside me and pulling it out shining. Then two fingers, all the way in, while your mouth didn’t let go of my clit. My knees buckled and I had to grab your hair so I wouldn’t fall.

***

When I opened them again, I saw them.

Three boys, upper-year students, standing a few meters away under the porch. University students, all of them adults, people who in any other context would have called me “professor” with their heads bowed. Now they were staring at me with their mouths slightly open, not moving, as if they were afraid the spell would break if they breathed. One of them already had a visible bulge in his pants.

It excited and unsettled me in equal measure. I whispered it to you, nervous, trying to pull my dress down.

—No —you said without lifting your head and with your mouth still pressed to my cunt—. Shut up and enjoy it.

One of them pulled out his phone. I saw the little red light of the camera come on, and something in my chest sped up in a new way. I should have covered myself, should have run. Instead I stayed still, let my shoulders drop against the wall, pulled my dress up to my waist myself so your head would be clearly visible between my legs, and started making the most obscene faces I knew how to make, the ones only you had seen up to that point. I stuck out my tongue, bit my lips, squeezed one tit over the fabric while my other hand shoved your face harder against my cunt.

You wouldn’t let me finish. You licked me until I was close, until my thighs tightened around your head, and then you pulled away and gave me one slow, mocking swipe of your tongue, over and over, until my head was spinning. I understood that was the game, that you wanted my rage to build up inside my body, to drip down the insides of my thighs in front of my students. I decided it was my turn to take control.

And right then she came closer.

***

A girl from the group I hadn’t noticed, short hair and a determined look. She slipped off her jeans without shame, panties too, and leaned against the wall beside me, offering herself, parting her cunt with two fingers and looking at you the way someone asks permission from the one in charge. She was already glistening from watching so much.

—Eat it —you ordered me.

How much of all that was okay? I didn’t even think about it. I was already too turned on, too far from myself. I knelt in front of her while the other two kept filming, and you, suddenly generous, motioned for them to come closer. I spread her thighs, ran my whole tongue from the bottom up to her clit, and heard her moan, short and deep. She tasted different, sweeter. I buried my mouth in her, pushed my tongue in as far as I could and rubbed her clit with the tip until she started moving her hips against my face. I grabbed her ass with both hands to hold her still and sucked her without mercy.

They unfastened their pants. They pulled out their cocks and started stroking themselves while they watched me give the girl pleasure, both of them silent, focused, with their hands moving up and down their hard, red shafts. One had a thick, short cock, the other long and veined; I took them in without meaning to, already calculating which one would come first. She writhed against my mouth, grabbed my hair with both hands, and pressed my face against her cunt until I felt her tremble all over, with a long moan that bounced off the brick. When she reached the end, I lifted her by tugging her short hair and pushed her toward them, my mouth still shining with her.

—Now you —I told her—. Them. Both of them. Don’t let a single one go soft.

I put her on her knees in front of her classmates and kept her busy. I watched her open her mouth and take the first cock all the way to the throat, gagging, while she jerked the other one off with her hand. Because I wanted you for myself, only for myself, even if it was just for a stolen minute.

You ran your fingers over my mouth, slowly, and I took them the way you know I like. Wet, deep, all the way in, never taking my eyes off yours, sucking them as if they were something else. I pulled down your fly, took out your cock and shoved it into my mouth in one go, choking myself against your pubic bone, letting tears fill my eyes so you could see them. I knew that turned you on, seeing my mascara smeared, saliva hanging from my chin while I sucked you like I’d been hungry for months. The whole situation was a bomb: the open courtyard, the danger of someone showing up, the two cameras turning among us, the girl choking on two cocks beside me. Every distant sound squeezed my stomach with pure adrenaline.

My students wanted you. They wanted me, they made that clear in whispers, their cocks still hard and shiny with their companion’s spit. But you don’t hand over one of your best conquests at the first ask.

—First prove you deserve her —you said—. Spank your partner. No mercy. One holds her, the other hits.

***

The girl started protesting; that wasn’t the deal she had expected. And for some reason, that made everything even more electric. One of the two surprised you: he took off his leather belt, weighed it in his hand, and told the other to do the same.

With one of the belts they tied the girl’s wrists behind her back. With the other the dry sound of leather against the skin of her bare ass began. Once, twice, several times. She whined, and the boy, far from stopping, bent over her ear.

—If you keep crying —he told her—, I’m going to hit you harder.

I froze, your cock still in my mouth. We’ve got a sadist in class, I thought, and to my shame I discovered I liked the idea, that my cunt tightened every time I heard the crack of the belt. You used my face to make the decision: you handed me over to them. But not before finishing inside my mouth yourself, grabbing the back of my neck and fucking my throat until I felt the hot spurts run over my palate, one after another, thick, until it filled me completely. And as always, I showed you my mouth before swallowing, with my tongue swimming in your cum, and I showed it to you after, empty, open, with a little white thread still hanging from my lip, so you could see I hadn’t wasted a drop.

The girl was cornered, undone, her wrists still tied and her ass marked with red stripes. You ordered her to watch and learn.

***

You put me on all fours on the cement floor. My dress rolled up at my waist, my tits hanging, my ass high and open for everyone. One of the boys stood in front of me so I could service him with my mouth while the others handled the rest. He shoved his cock to the back of my throat on the first thrust and stayed there, holding it in, until I started gagging and filling his balls with spit. This time you wanted to be the one to hurt me; it was always one of your favorite things. You asked to borrow one of the belts.

While my mouth was occupied, I felt the first blow cross the skin of my ass, dry, burning. You knew it turned me on, that it was the best warning of what came next. I let out a muffled cry around the cock inside me and felt my cunt gush more. Another blow, and another, until my ass was hot as an iron. And sure enough: a few minutes later you handed the belt to the boy who had turned out to be the roughest, the one waiting for his turn with a calm that gave me chills, his cock in his hand.

—If she comes —you told him—, don’t show mercy.

And with one single motion you shoved it in from behind. You spat first, let the spit fall between my cheeks and pushed it in with the head. As always, it burned at first and then went in well, all the way, until I felt your balls strike my cunt. You started moving with that brutality I knew, the one that begged to be begged for, ramming me so hard my tits bounced against the concrete and guttural moans escaped me every time the head hit me deepest. When the first student came in my mouth—dumping a thick load onto my tongue that almost spilled from the corners of my lips—the other took his place without giving me time to swallow. The long-cocked one shoved himself down my throat with both hands on my head, fucking my face at whatever rhythm you wanted to enter my ass. Same instructions for everyone: if I came, the belt.

I was at the limit. You were pounding my asshole to the hilt, my cunt was dripping down my thighs, another cock was splitting my mouth and the taste of cum was still on my palate. I didn’t know how to hold back, and on top of that I was forcing myself to wait, clenching my teeth around the cock inside me, thinking only of you finishing first, of giving you that pleasure before surrendering.

***

You knew you wanted to see me suffer. You ordered the girl, still tied up, to come over and tug my nipples. She hesitated for a second. Then she came toward me, ducked underneath, and bit my breasts as best she could, clumsy and angry at the same time, pulling my nipples with her teeth until they turned hard as stones and every bite hurt. She kneaded my tits with her bound hands as best she could, twisting, scratching.

Obviously, I came. I came in gushes, soaking your balls, clenching my ass around your cock in spasms that pulled a growl out of you.

Then the belt started. I felt my skin burn with every strike, line after line of fire crossing my cheeks, my thighs, the small of my back.

—This is what happens when you come without permission —the boy said between cracks of leather—. You little brazen slut. Dirty bitch. Look at your cunt dripping with pleasure while I lay into you.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I entered some kind of limbo where I came once and immediately started again, without pause, with leather falling nonstop, with your cock hammering my ass, with my mouth busy on another one that was already dripping semen onto my tongue, and the girl working my breasts like her life depended on it. I lost track of my own body, of how many times I came, of how many cocks finished inside me or on me. I felt the second student’s cum fill my mouth and spill over my chin, hot, salty, mixing with the string of saliva that was already hanging down to my tits.

At last you finished. You drove in all the way, squeezed my hips with both hands and unloaded inside my ass with short, brutal thrusts, growling against my neck. I felt the hot spurts fill me from within, one after another, until you slowly pulled out and a thick drop slid down my thigh. As soon as you did, everything stopped dead, as if someone had turned the music off. You grabbed my hair and threw my head back.

—Get on your knees and say thank you for this session.

***

That felt like too much humiliation, the last straw. I refused. And you crossed my face with two sharp slaps that left my cheek burning and a sloppy cock banging against my cheekbone.

—We’re not leaving here until you’re grateful.

In the end I gave in. I knelt on the concrete, trembling, with semen sliding down the insides of my thighs and my mouth still tasting of someone else’s load, and I thanked them in a thin voice. My students, laughing, answered me with a mocking “you’re welcome.” And then they did something I hadn’t expected: they showed me the screens of their phones, already empty, and explained that they’d deleted everything.

Thank God, I thought, while I was pulling my dress down with my hands still clumsy, feeling the fabric stick to my stinging ass and wet cunt.

Every bird to its tree. The boys disappeared the way they had come, the girl dressed without looking at anyone, and you offered to take me home as if none of it had happened.

I didn’t tell you yes or no. I just got in the car, rested my head against the window, and for the first time in a week I didn’t think about the breakup, or about her, or about how alone I felt in that huge apartment.

Thank you for making me forget everything, even if only for a while.