Everything grew completely silent in under a second. They could hear the other teacher droning on with her lesson but they were too distracted with their own panting and heavy breaths. There was no moaning, there couldn't be any moaning. It fucking hurt her throat to hold her gasps like that. His constant ramming into her made subtle slapping sounds of flesh on flesh. She could already feel her moisture seeping down her legs. She thought it was disgusting but for some reason he liked knowing she was dripping.
He flipped her over, finally done with doing it from behind. She didn't seem to notice how uncomfortable it was to have all these different boxes and books cutting into her back. All she could focus on was being quiet and the attention he was giving her chest. He bent over her and started kneading the flesh sensually. His tongue licked the most sensitive areas, as if challenging her to see who could be the quietest.
She was so close. He could feel the twitches her body made as he constantly kept grinding into her harshly.
Just a little more and he would finally have her come first. Finally. She jerked and her back arches into him, giving his dick enough leverage to hit her just right. She came with a heavy sigh, which was thankfully muted with the closed door and the chattering of students finishing up a lab. He placed her on the floor and picked her legs up into the air, this time moving slower and more agonizingly.
"I'm coming inside of you," he warned her. She couldn't care right now. She was too fucking drugged with pleasure to even let his words sink in. His slow thrusts were jerky and sloppy, and soon enough his muscles stiffened against her skin. She closed her eyes at the feeling of being filled with steaming hot liquid. It burned her flesh, torn by his huge member. They held each other half dazed, in a euphoric state. They held still for a moment, and by god, he was still cumming inside of her. She almost came again at the feeling of the warmth pumping inside of her.
He slid out of her slowly, letting the wetness drip down her thighs. He leaned forward, giving her a little lick. She hummed and bit her index finger, squirming under his tongue. It was gross, knowing that he was cleaning her. But it was sort of cute. Like a wolf licking his wounded mate. She flinched when she felt his hot tongue run along the torn flesh. But she was squirming again when he was sucking on that little sensitive bead. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. It was so damn frustrating to have one orgasm immediately after another. She was so sensitive under his touch and he knew it.
He took his time, letting her come again so he could lick her up some more. When he was finally done, he sat up to admire the view. There she was, completely lost and drowsy with bruised hips and small bleeding paper cuts along her skin. Bruised, abused, breathtaking. He was already ready for more. But he allowed her to sit up and they both dressed themselves. Kat threw the sad excuse of a t-shirt that was torn and loose on her and she chuckled quietly.
"What's so funny?" Mr. Y asked with a small smile. She looked at him and shrugged, a grin still plastered on her face. Exhausted and pleased, they both sat on some boxes until the hum of the bell interrupted their thoughts. They hadn't said anything, until she turned to look at him while picking up her bag.
"Pretty soon," she started with a smile still plastered on her face. "I'm going to graduate and I'll be out of your hair forever."
He furrowed his eyebrows and sat up to try and follow her. "I'm aware of that," he managed while he buttoned up his shirt. She leaned on a desk and gave him a wary look, that infuriating smile still playing on her lips except it was a little light now. Fleeting.
"All I wanted was a nice angry fuck," she shrugged. His face flushed red in realization. She was acting like such a prick to antagonize him purposely and it had worked. Ashamed with himself, he was about to cuss her out with that same authoritative voice he used on his students but she stopped him before he could open his mouth.
"This is the last time," she said. Squaring her shoulders, she propelled herself off the desk and made her way towards the door backwards so she could still face him. "It's been nice."
He smiled at her too. He didn't really want to but her smile was contagious. Maybe she antagonized him, maybe she didn't. She probably made this decision way before their little rendezvous in the supply closet. Maybe she was bitter about it. He stepped back, straightened his tie and extended his hand for her to shake. She took it firmly, never breaking eye contact. There wasn't a hint of sadness or no heartbreaking pangs in his heart. It was just time to end it and they both knew it.
He suddenly remembered the day of the enzyme lesson when he shook hands with her hand. There was no stiffness between the two hands and he felt as though he was holding a small flower petal. Sickened by the range of emotions within him, he realized this wouldn't end so gracefully for him. With attraction always came attachment.
And so watching her step out of the door bothered him just a little.
