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When you’re eighteen and having overly erotic dreams, to whom do you talk? Your girlfriends? They’d laugh and want all the salacious details. Your boyfriend? He’d want to act it out, and that wasn’t going to happen. Your mother? Yes, Denise could just see herself going to her mother to discuss erotic dreams. Not in this lifetime. She sighed as she went to bed. Maybe she wouldn’t have any tonight.

– – –

Denise was just walking along one of the corridors after school, minding her own business. She’d nod or exchange words with the odd student that she knew but her mind was really on her destination rather than the journey.

Passing one classroom, Denise was taken by surprise when a hand reached out of the door, took her by the arm, and drew her into the empty room. Déjà vu, she thought. This has happened before. She knew what would come next.

She didn’t turn to try to identify the person who had pulled her in. Her attention was fastened on the teacher’s table at the front of the room. That’s where it would happen.

He was towing her over to the table, leading really, because she wasn’t resisting. Reaching the table he gently pushed her forward so she was leaning over it. She waited expectantly. This had all happened before, she knew.

Her dress was lifted up and her panties were pulled down. The idea of protesting didn’t even occur to Denise. This was just what was going to happen. Protesting wouldn’t do any good.

A hand was rubbing against her mound, teasing it, starting a slow excitement deep inside her. She could feel fingers trespassing, agitating her even more. Soon things would advance past this stage and she waited, knowing it had to be so.

Finally she felt the trespass within her body. He had finally reached the point where he couldn’t wait and his invasion had begun. He felt large. He wasn’t rushing her, but giving her time to adjust as he slowly drove deeper into her. She could feel herself squirming slightly, pressing back against him, taking him deep, feeling herself stretch to accommodate him.

She felt a bump against her rump as he pressed home that last little bit and held there, pinning her against the table. Hands closed over her breasts. Looking down at them, Denise found she was now naked, but that seemed only natural.

Voices in the hallway as students strolled past the open door to the classroom. If they saw what was happening, they ignored it. No-one turned their head to watch what was being done to her. They had no interest in the fact that she was nude.

Turning her head slightly to try to see who it was who had her pinned all Denise could see was that he was big and naked. She was sure he hadn’t been naked when he fetched her into the room and idly wondered why he was now.

Not that it made any difference. It really seemed right that he should be; she was.

Now he was starting to move, slowly withdrawing and then pushing firmly back into her. Denise felt her own body stirring, wanting to move with him.

His hands teased her breasts while his cock drilled into her. Denise relished the feel of those hands on her sensitive breasts, her nipples standing firm, begging to be touched.

She was pushing back against him now. Every time he pushed into her, Denise pushed firmly back against him, letting his cock sink deep. Slowly the speed of his assault built. No longer was he taking his time. He was driving into her faster and faster. Denise felt the tensions within her tightening, the fires that burned within being fanned to greater heights until they seemed as though the furnace would devout her.

Everything was silent except for the slap of his flesh against her and the sound of her gasping. From the time he had first pulled her into the classroom neither had spoken a word.

Things were speeding up. Denise couldn’t take much more. She was whimpering now, need burning within her. Her nerves were coiling tighter and tighter and Denise knew something was about to snap.

Something did and Denise snapped awake with a gasp. She lay in her bed, shuddering slightly, acutely conscious of the turmoil in her loins.

Stupid dream, she fumed. That was the third time she’d had that dream recently. She wondered if this was her body’s way of telling her to go out and get laid. Slowly relaxing, Denise drifted off to sleep again.

– – –

School was finished for the day. There was a game on that evening and Denise strolled down the hallway wondering if she should go and see it. Show a little team spirit.

As she passed the arts room a hand snaked out and caught her, pulling her inside. Again? The thought drifted across Denise’s mind. Why is this so familiar.

Looking to see who had her, she recognised Tony. He was a senior, the same as her, and he was also a member of the team. She’d have thought he would be getting ready for the game, not dragging girls into classrooms. Her eyes fell on the teacher’s table. Why did that table seem both familiar and important?

Tony was hustling her over towards the table and Denise suddenly found herself pushed forward over it. Again she had that funny feeling that she has done this before in her dreams. It didn’t stop her protesting.

“Stop it, Tony,” she snapped. “What do you think you’re doing?”

There was no answer. Or, at least, no verbal answer. Denise had a funny feeling that having her skirt go north and her panties go south was all the answer she was getting. Surely he didn’t mean to try to rape her right her in the classroom? Anyone could come past.

“Tony, will you cut it out,” she snapped, while a little voice whispered to her, “Protesting doesn’t help, remember. He goes ahead and takes you.”

The little voice was right, Denise found. Tony’s hand was playing with her pussy, stroking it, massaging and sliding fingers into her. His other hand was on her back, holding her firmly in place.

Denise had made her protest and now just stood there, letting it happen. It all seemed so inevitable. It had happened before and it was just happening again.

Her eyes widened as she felt Tony press his erection against her. His fingers were directing it, steering it into her, and now it knew where it was going and was driving home.

Denise gasped, another protest forming, only to be lost in a squeak as Tony gave a hard push, driving deep into her, stretching her and forcing her to accept him.

She could feel his hands on her breasts and looked down. She could see the outlines of Tony’s hands against her blouse. He’d slid them up under her blouse and pushed her bra aside, laying claim to the soft flesh underneath.

Why, wondered Denise, doesn’t someone come along to interrupt us?

Then her wondering was driven from her mind as Tony started surging back and forth within her.

Tony’s hands squeezed her Denise’s breasts while his cock drove determinedly into her. Denise gasped and pushed firmly back against him, ensuring that he went deep. I’ve done this before, came that familiar whisper. I know how this goes.

Slowly but steadily Tony increased the tempo. Denise knew it would happen and pushed back against him. There would be no interruptions. All she could do was stay with Tony until the end, and Denise worked hard to keep up with him.

Things were moving too fast. Denise could feel Tony pounding away at her, trying for his own climax. She could sense he wasn’t worried about her, just his own release. Denise pushed hard against Tony, knowing if she wanted to climax she’d have to work for it.

Denise found herself lost in a daze. All that was real was Tony inside her, both pleasuring her and driving her crazy. She squealed in frustration as she felt Tony start to take short hard strokes, ready to blow his stack.

She gave a sob of relief as she pushed hard back against him, feeling the splash of his seed and finding her own climax was washing over her.

Denise stayed bent over the table, sensing Tony’s withdrawal. She gave a squeak as a hand gave her a swat on the bottom.

“Thanks, love,” said Tony. “You were great.”

Denise stood there, feeling sticky and stunned as Tony walked away.

“I’m not going to wake up this time,” she whispered to herself. “That actually happened. It wasn’t a dream. Those dreams weren’t dreams. They were premonitions. They were warning me.”

Slowly she bent and pulled up her panties.

“Note to self,” she muttered. “Do not, ever, get on the team bus. You don’t want to find yourself living that second dream.”

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