“And this is the equation I would use to define it?” She asks, holding her paper up high.
I work his entire length a few more times before I stop completely. He’s all but squirming as my hand finds the top of his pants. I begin to unbutton them, and he smiles as he lets out a straining exhaling.
“Yes,” he sighs happily, both to me, and as his answer.
“Got it. You’re such a great teacher,” she smiles.
“Right,” he mumbles, barely paying attention, so focused on helping me release him from the confines of his jeans. He shifts in his seat, making it easier for me, as his button comes undone. I clear my throat and slide down the zipper next, watching as he grabs a paper from in front of him, holding it up and pretending to read.
His rigid, swollen penis escapes, standing full mast, throbbing as I wrap my hand around it. I can’t help my sigh, as I finally feel him - all of him. This isn’t watching from a distance, or feeling him through our clothing - no, he’s all here, right here, big and heavy, and in my hand. I wish I could use two, as the one doesn’t even come close to covering him.
He shifts in his seat again, helping me rest his hard length inside the desk so that it doesn’t peek out over the top.
I squeeze him and he rewards me with another throbbing pulse, his fingers digging into the sides of the wooden desk hard. I watch out of the corner of my eye as his briefly close.
I start to move my hand up and down, going slow, not wanting any part above my elbow to move.
He gently shoves his hips up towards me, and I tease him by rubbing my thumb over his tip, surprised by its smoothness. A few drops of wetness drip out and I use it as I glide my hand back down, coating him with it.
I think back to all the times I’ve watched him masturbate, knowing precisely what he likes, so after every few pumps I give him a tight squeeze, gripping hard.
When I look his way again I notice he’s watching me out of the corner of his eye, his hands still clutching the sides of the desk as he grunts ever so softly. He’s trying so hard to be quiet, and to control his breathing. I normally wouldn’t even hear him above the TV next door if I didn’t already know exactly what to listen for, so in tune to his process from seeing him do this so many times.
He’s so rigid he must be close. I’m jerking him hard and fast now, working up a steady rhythm. He shoves hips forward again, his mouth open and tight, begging me to pump faster, but I can’t. It’ll be too obvious.
I still when he has trouble answering a question, but pick right back up once he’s finished, driving my hand up and down quickly. I sink back into my chair and look inside the desk. He’s so swollen, oh yeah, he’s definitely yearning to erupt.
I want to give him exactly what he wants, so since I can’t speed up, I push down hard, sneaking in a few fast pulls. After one last hard tug, he’s there, shooting out between my fingers.
“Oh God!” He grunts loudly, just as the bell rings. I watch the jets of fluid surge out forcefully into the desk each time I tug on him.
Madison and her friend give me a confused look and I shrug, slowing my movement as he continues to empty himself, still gushing between my fingers. He chuckles before finally composing himself.
“Oh God!” He says again purposefully, realizing how random his words were. “Oh God, I can’t believe how quickly that went!” I’m anxious, as I look Madison’s way. Will she buy it?
“Yeah, it did fly by,” she smiles.
I relax as I reach into my bag, finding some tissues and passing them to him under the desk. There’s so much come, I’ll have to get more from his desk once they leave, and as soon as they’re out the door, I get up and grab them, wiping my hands.
I register the sound of his zipper, hearing it close, and when I turn around from throwing my tissues in the garbage, he’s behind me, shutting the door with one hand, and grabbing my waist with the other.
“Hi,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Hi,” I meet his lips as they lightly press against mine. They’re soft and sweet, and I hope this doesn’t count as our one more kiss because it’s far too quick.
“Thank you,” he pulls away, opening the door back up.
“Yeah,” I bite my lip to stop my wide smile.
“You’re pretty proud of yourself right about now, aren’t you?” He jokes, and I can’t help my laugh. “I bet you’re pretty wet too,” he whispers.
“Maybe.” I don’t think I’ve ever been more soaked.
“Stay late today and I’ll fix that,” he demands, and my heart beats rapidly, looking at him expectantly. “That kiss was too short to count,” he breathes, and it’s like he can read my mind. “I think maybe we should have one more.”
I nod, beaming in agreement, just as Ashley walks through the door.
“Oh my God!” She gushes. “You’ll never guess what you missed during lunch!”
I briefly listen to her story before heading to study hall, knowing full well I’ll have to make a pit stop to the bathroom on my way.
Public speaking has been really awkward lately, ever since winter break. Hannah arranged for the three of us to go to the movies again, only she didn’t tell me about it, since she wanted to go alone with Nick.
Well, Nick’s pissed I bailed, even though I didn’t know about it, and Hannah swore me to secrecy. Honestly, I don’t even care about the whole thing, but to Hannah, it’s the biggest deal in the world.
However, during this movie they went to alone together, apparently Hannah disclosed her crush by attempting to hold Nick’s hand. He then flat out said that he likes me.
She abruptly left, mid-movie.
Talk about awkward.
Things haven’t been same between any of us, and it’s so unbelievably uncomfortable, I wish I could change my seat.
The class moves unbelievably slowly, and I’ve never been more eager for after school math. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ll be meeting up with my chemistry teacher after that.
I leave math late, and I’m disappointed when I find his office door locked, and the lights out. I head down the hall to check his classroom, and it’s the same, dark and empty.
“Shit,” I mumble, throwing my head back. I’m too late; he must have left already.
“Looking for me?” I smile at his voice before turning around.
“I thought you left.”
“I told you to meet me,” he chuckles, walking past me in his workout clothes, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as he continues down the hall. “I would never just leave.”
I follow him into his office, the shutting of the door and the clicking of the lock further stimulating me. Before I have a chance to fully drop my bag, it falls out of my grasp as he grabs me and forcefully pins me against the door in the most arousing way.
“God, what you did to me today,” he mutters against my cheek, lifting my arms high above my head as he presses his raging hard on against my stomach. “And you have got to stop staring at me during class.”
“But I always look at you,” I whisper, breathless.
His eyes are laced with amusement. “That was before I knew what it was like to actually kiss you.” He seals his words against my mouth, softly mirroring our kiss from this afternoon. I go wrap my arms around him, but he stops me, tightly holding them in place above my head and against the cold door. I deepen our kiss with my mouth, shoving my body against his. He pulls back, already gaping for air.
“I know,” I roll my eyes, already breathing heavily too. “This is the last time.”
I involuntarily shove my hips towards his; he smirks as he pushes his right leg between mine. I open my legs automatically, welcoming him, and the contact of his thigh feels so good against my ache. I close my eyes, embracing the sensation, as he then moves his hands from my wrists, lacing his fingers with mine, a perfect fitting puzzle.
“Better make this last one memorable then,” I whisper.
“Was the last one not?” He chuckles, grazing my cheek.<
br />
“It was too memorable,” I confess. “That’s the problem.”
“Luci,” he all but licks my lips as he says my name.
I push my mouth back onto his and he returns my kiss with so much passion that I lose my balance. I drop down onto his leg, drunk on him. He rocks me against the door as his lips move to the corners of my mouth; placing light kisses all the way to down to my chin and up to my ear.
“I bet you’re soaked,” he nibbles on my ear lobe and I moan against him.
Soaked? I’m absolutely drenched.
He starts to lightly sway his leg between mine; shoving his stiffness against me while his thigh rubs my mound in an excruciating good way. I can feel my clit practically beating against him.
He returns his mouth to mine and we’re lost, drowning, overwhelmed in each other. He finally lets go of my hands and I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. He moves his around my waist and does the same.
We both groan as he picks me up, so I’m straddling his waist. His hands move to my ass, squeezing and knocking me into him.
“Let me take them off,” I pant. My jeans are in the way and I want to feel him right up against me like I did yesterday. He moans and thrusts one more time before setting me down. He’s still kissing me as I undo the button, followed by the zipper.
“Underwear too,” he breathes, and I pause, staring up at him. “Let me watch you touch yourself?” He asks, and I know he’s wary of my shocked expression. “It’s only fair, based on the amount of times you’ve seen me.” He smirks, and I’m done, about to explode from his look alone.
I continue to slide my jeans off, underwear too, as I take a seat in his chair, placing my legs on either side of the arm rests, spreading them wide.
“Shit,” he takes me in; the hungry look in his eye unforgettable.
I’m suddenly completely comfortable, knowing that he’s craving me as much as I am him. The bulge in his pants is almost eye level now, and it’s taking me all that I have not to reach out and touch it. I hesitate, self-conscious over what I’m about to do.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He leans in, pressing his lips against mine.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Then you freaked out.”
“You’re able to spread so wide,” he notices in a daze. “So flexible.”
I laugh, what an odd thing to say.
“I danced for years,” I respond. “Ballet.”
“I can see that,” he smiles. “So refined and elegant.” He backs away, shaking his head before grabbing my right hand. He licks each of my fingers, sucking softly on the pads. “Touch yourself,” he whispers, and I’m so turned on in this very moment that there’s nothing more I’d rather do.
I slowly reach down between my legs. I don’t even have to spread the lips; I’m already so swollen. I start rubbing the little nub in gentle circles, watching as his mouth falls open. He falters back, a brand new fire blazing in his eyes. I’m rendered defeated and I close my eyes from the pleasure as my fingers pick up speed.
“That’s it, rub yourself… faster,” he encourages, and when I open my eyes I see him palming himself over his pants. I massage myself faster, just like he asks, already feeling the familiar build up.
He’s so fucking hot.
I bite my lip and throw my head back as I thrust my hips gently into my own palm, having to slow myself down. I quicken my pace again almost immediately, my need too strong, hearing as he moves his hand into his pants. I can’t take my eyes off his, but I see the movement out of the corner of my eye, and I glance down quickly, watching as he strokes himself with a viscous rhythm. My fingers start to move faster, matching his, and I let out a long moan.
“Don’t stop,” he pants. “Oh God! Faster Luci!”
I let out another whimper as he pushes the front of his pants down, exposing himself. He’s vigorously thrusting into his hand, the tip of him practically purple as he watches me intently.
“The top,” I heave, squirming against myself, watching as he focuses on his head, just like I asked, rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger, almost like a pinch except in a fast motion. He throws his head back in pure ecstasy and I’m on the verge of becoming lost, becoming found.
“Oh that feels good,” he groans before smiling at me. “You know just what I like.” He words are my undoing and once he returns to stroking his entire length I’m done.
“Ah!” I shout, and my legs start to shake. He walks towards me, bending down, his mouth meeting mine. My fingers are working overtime, imagining it’s his tongue caressing me as I feel the rapid movement of his arm jerking himself roughly. He grunts my name into my mouth and pleasure continues to pool in my stomach, my back arching, shoving my chest against the top of his.
“Yes, come for me, Luci,” he grunts again, and to my utter shock and pleasure, he shoves his finger inside of me. I clamp around it, pulsing, milking it as I come undone. “Shit, you’re making me come,” he pants, shifting his stance. I hear the plop of his fluid as it splatters and on to the floor. “God are you snug,” he groans softly, his finger still moving in and out of me slowly as his other hand pumps himself. I’m still going, circling my clit quickly and crying out, never having had an orgasm last this long.
“That’s it, keep coming around my finger,” he soothes my whimpering with a kiss, and when he pulls back I finally look over, watching his last few drops squirt out onto the floor.
He doesn’t take his finger out of me right away, but when he does, it leaves me feeling empty, not to mention a little silly - sitting here naked from the waist down with my legs wide open.
He steps back and I take my legs off the sides of the chair and close them, watching as he brings his finger to his mouth and sucks.
“You taste so good,” he moans before pulling up the front of his pants and bending down to retrieve mine.
His eyes are glued to me as I get dressed, and I don’t say anything as I reach down and pick up my bag, ready to leave.
“Wait,” he says, grabbing my arm. He pulls me close and brushes his lips against mine. I automatically sink into him and next thing I know, we’re making out again.
NO LONGER INNOCENT
I don’t arrive super early the next morning, but early enough to pass by his classroom before first period. I’ve been replaying my words, and the things that I’ve said over the past couple of days in my head all night. I hate how desperate I sound when it comes to him, and I feel foolish over how he’s taken such a hold on me.
“Hey, Trouble!” He smiles, already sitting at his desk, his classroom still empty.
“Morning,” I smile back, taking a bite of my bagel, trying to act like I don’t want to jump him right now. “Want some?”
“I’m good, thanks,” he laughs.
I sink against the doorframe, wanting to come in, but also not wanting to keep throwing myself at him.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, which adds another item to the list of things I loathe about myself: How much I’ve let him get to know me.
“Nothing,” I clear my throat. “I better get to my locker.”
“Okay,” he nods, perplexed. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, see you at lunch,” I wave.
I don’t make it more than halfway down the hall before hesitating. This isn’t how we are. We don’t dilly-dally and things don’t get weird.
I walk back into his classroom and slam the door. He looks up, confused.
“You know what, I’m not okay.” I throw my bag down and toss the bagel in the trash as I step onto the platform confidently. I grab his face and press my mouth against his, hard.
He kisses me back, shoving his fingers into my hair. His tongue meets mine and we’re melting into this terrible conundrum, because this feeling, our touch, is absolutely mind-blowing and addicting.
“Luci,” he pulls back before colliding with my mouth again, our alluring battle continuing.
“Luci,” he repeats, causing me to a
dd yet another item to my hate list: Despising how I know; just by the way he says my name, that this is not going to be good.
“We can’t keep doing this,” he pulls back and can’t even meet my eye as he says it.
Anguish rips through me. “I thought you said you were tired of fighting it?”
“I have to,” he sighs.
“Fine!” I all but stamp my feet as I storm out.
I know, not my most mature or shining moment. Please don’t judge.
The day moves at an agonizing rate. I write a terrible essay in English, and give a horrible oral report on the Civil War in social studies. I was so prepared for it too!
I’m embarrassed, upset, and perturbed, but what else is new?
It’s hard to accept that he’s back to fighting us, as I’ve basically come apart in front of him twice now. Yet, I’m still not ready to give up.
Maybe I’m just that determined of a person, or maybe it’s because I refuse to let go.
I’m at my locker between periods, and I know he see’s me as he heads into the main office. I’m still there when the bell rings, watching his vivid blue eyes as he approaches, unsure how badly I messed up earlier and if we’re still on for lunch. He offers me a tight smile as he walks right by, not stopping.
Fuck.
“Aren’t you coming?” He looks over his shoulder as he continues his path to his classroom.
Relief washes over me as I fall in line directly behind him.
“No Madison?” I ask, I thought for sure once she knew he also had a free period she would be here all the time.
“I put a stop that quickly,” he laughs, and I can’t help the thought, just like you put a stop to us quickly.
“So, what’ve you been reading lately?” He pulls up a chair and takes out his lunch.
I answer, and we’re back to talking, like nothing’s ever happened between us.
Throughout lab he doesn’t make any eye contact with me. It stresses me out, like maybe I did something wrong after all.
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