My head snapped up from its position on the desk, bleary eyes peeking out from under my crossed arms. The previously cool wooden desk had heated from where my arms had been residing for the past hour. I had slowly drifted off, my head sagging more with every breath, until it hit the desk with a quiet thump. The stream of students exiting the class was my cue to leave. I slid the papers, resting precariously on the edge of the desk, into my backpack, careful to keep them wrinkle free. He leaned against his desk casually, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden top. A container of paper clips rested on the corner, the only attempt at organization among the scattered papers and post it notes with illegible writing and nonsensical phrases. His deep voice carried through the vaulted ceiling and to the plaza on the outside, loud enough to catch the attention of the escaping pupils,"Remember to bring your syllabus back on Friday". I groggily grabbed my backpack, tossing it over my slumped shoulders, the weight shifting to one side, causing me to stumble, crashing in the desks. The noise startled him, his glasses almost flying off his face as he snapped to attention, but relaxed when he saw me, a knowing expression falling into his face. Well shit. I picked myself up off of the metal wood combo that somehow resulted in the worst torture device to ever enter the lives of children and teens alike. His voice changed to mimic the way he talked that night, a gravelly tone laced with desire, as he changed his position, pushing himself off the desk to move towards the desks, blocking a path to the exit. "Were you ever going to tell me your name?" I froze for a second, my eyes wide before I continued the precarious path to the door. Lie. I even out my voice, looking him square in the eye, squinting my eyes in confusion, "I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about". I had made it through the miscellany of desks, a few feet and I was free, "But I'll see you tomorrow". My eyes were on the ground, hoping to avoid any sort of confrontation, but that didn't stop him from stepping out in front of me, reaching his hands up to gently caress my chin. I flinched backwards out of his grasp, his hand left stranded between us, "I don't think this is appropriate for you to be hitting on me". I looked up at his imposing frame through my lashes. This won't end well. He turned serious at my comment, leaning in and whispering, "I don't think it's appropriate for you to look like that and not expect me to fuck you senseless". I looked up sharply, surprised at his bold words and the overwhelming lust in his eyes when he leaned back, with no attempt to conceal it. His hand found the end of my scarf unwrapping it around my downturned face, his hands skimming my neck, causing shivers to roll down my spine. His hands found my waist, hiking up my white oversized sweater to touch the bare skin lying beneath its surface. I staggered backward with his insistent shoves, "I'm going to make you feel like I did last night". I felt heat spread throughout my stomach falling between my legs as his hand lowered, stroking me through my fleece lined leggings. I hit the whiteboard, smudging the red writing, detailing the procedure on how to sign up for the homework reminder service. Look's like I'm not getting out of this one... But do I really want to? He leaned in, his face stopping inches from mine, his hand continuing its demanding caress. My hands curled into fists, fingernails digging into my palms, stopping me from crossing the divide to kiss him and lessening the overpowering need to bring him closer. Hs eyes stared into mine, unrestrained passion begging me not to stop him, bridging the gap slowly, almost hesitantly, differing from the demanding pace he had already set with his hand, sending shock waves cascading regularly within my body whenever he touched my clit. His lips met mine, his tongue expecting entry to my mouth, which I gave willingly, my body already humming with desire. He took control, a slow, seductive pace turning to a feverish one, he grabbed my butt with both hands as I wrapped my legs around his waist, slipping out of my boots in the process, his mouth never leaving mine. He set me down on his desk gingerly before sweeping the mess of papers onto the floor, a clatter sounding throughout the room, where the pens collided with the spinning leather chair. His tongue left my mouth, moving with his body as he knelt down, his eyes level with my stomach. He looked up at me grinning wickedly before sliding his hands up my thighs, with one hand hooking his strong fingers onto the waistband of my pants, the other sliding up my stomach a subdued pressure causing me to lie back, he tugged off my leggings, dragging them slowly down, before releasing them to pool on the ground. I could feel my panties soaking through as he eyed the lacy purple fabric hungrily. My hands gripped the sides of the desk to keep them from shaking with anticipation, my usually busy mind quiet, waiting for his next move. My eyes rolled back with pleasure as he lapped at the textile, with a teasing sluggishness, making my back arch and his hand to reach up, running his rough fingertips across my stomach, etching a trail of fire across the surface. His head was half hidden under the knitted material of my sweater, the wispy tips of his brown hair was the only thing visible. I quivered under his welcome attack, a groan leaving my mouth when he stopped. A chuckle escaped his lips, his head lifting to look at me, his hand falling under my shirt, leaving me to rely on my senses to know what he was doing, "Do you want me to continue?" I lifted my head all I could manage was a frantic nod before returning to my previous position, splayed before him, inviting him to touch my body. His fingers slid my underwear to the side, slipping into my wetness, his fingers travelling in small circles, hitting the sensitive patch within me repeatedly, my breath catching with every stroke. His hand reached past my stomach to squeeze my breast, toying with it, following the rhythm of his fingers which was gradually getting faster, my breath coming in shallow pants, feeling the build up in my body, more intense than I had ever experienced before. I felt myself squirt into his hand as pleasure rippled through my body, a moan leaving my mouth. He paused looking at my wide eyes with wonder, his fingers leaving my body, hesitating at my entrance, "Did you just-". I cut him off, my face turning more red, adding to my already flushed cheeks, "Yes". I sat up, my hands still clenched on the table on either side of my legs, I looked down at the desk in embarrassment, seeing the pool of clearish liquid sitting near the edge of the desk. He shoved his face under mine, pulling me into a sensual kiss, whispering against my lips, "That's hot". His hands made quick work of my underwear, sliding the useless fabric off to puddle on top of my leggings near my feet. His lips forged a path down my neck, trailing in between my boobs, slowing when he reached my stomach, his lips dragging across my skin, glancing up he dragged his hands across my hips, tilting them backwards, sliding his hands under my back to guide me back to my previous position. The fire in my stomach started again, replacing the knots of unease. He disappeared back under my sweater leaving feather light kisses along the inside of my thigh. He licked up my slit, his tongue circling my clit before he started sucking, pleasure waves bounced around my body, the suction causing my back to arch up off the desk, slamming back down when he left. I let go of the desk, my hands sliding into his hair, tugging on the ends of it to have him continue. He slipped out of my hands as I felt the rough texture of his tongue flick against me, rubbing me with wide strokes, feeling every inch of the delicate tissue. He went up and down, dipping inside my wet core with the tip of his tongue, stealing its lubrication and groaning when I pushed into his touch, tasting every inch of me. He stopped his long strokes pausing near my clitorus, circling the small bud, spiralling inward until her was directly on top of it, the familiar build up starting, my insides clenching, begging to be felt. He slowed to a stop, right when I was on the edge, retreating to the outside, starting his torture again. Small noises of desperation left my mouth, my body squirming under his manipulation, craving the release he had prevented the first time. My undoing was when he reached the edge of my clit, grazing over it in one insistent stroke. I felt the pulsing warmth radiating from where he had played with me outwards, a loud moan being released with it, my body quivering as I held his head down, not wanting him to stop. I sat up when the feelings subsided, the heat in my stomach growing warmer as he hadn't stopped his desirous assault. I leaned into him, my eyes closing in bliss at the euphoric feeling that cocooned me, my legs swaying when he stopped, showing his glistening mouth, my juices fresh on his lips. I blushed, looking away from his intense stare with hooded eyes. My hands moved to my lap, an attempt to hide how flustered I was, my fingers kneading each other in nervousness. The reality of the situation came crashing down in that instant. He's my teacher and I just came on his desk... Twice. Fuck. He straightened from his crouched position, sweeping his hand through his hair, finding its resting place on the nape of his neck, "Do you want some water or something?" I couldn't bring myself to answer, my mouth opening and closing like a dead fish, making small strangled noises. His bashful expression changed to one of worry, his hands falling on my arms, his gaze searching mine, "Are you okay?" I suddenly found my voice, a shaky stuttering sound, filled with uncertainty, "This can't happen again". He didn't seem surprised, but his face fell into one of sadness before hardening, grabbing my clothes from the ground and shoving them in my direction without looking at me, "You should go then". I snatched the leggings from his hands, hopping off the desk to slip them on, glaring at the speckled carpet while I struggled with my boots, hopping on one foot in a circle. I tripped falling headfirst to the ground, before being caught, an arm snaking around my waist, my face hovering a foot above the ground. He pulled me up to a standing position from which I turned around to thank him, my breath hitching when I saw the closeness of his body. I stared mesmerized by face, frozen by the lust coursing through my veins from the depths of his green eyes. The sexual tension sizzling in the air between us was thick, my eyes dropping to his lips and then back to his eyes, debating my options. I shouldn't kiss him, but I really want to. I don't know what convinced me, the butterflies in my stomach threatening to make their escape or the way he licked his lips nervously under the scrutiny, but I leaned in kissing him. We jumped apart when the bell rang, surprise and sexual frustration evident on his face. New students eyed my disheveled clothing and the proximity to their new teacher. You could see on his face he wanted to continue where we had left off, but he kept his distance whispering to me, as I picked up my bag from under the board, "What's your name?" I smirked in his direction giving him an overly chirpy response and a wink, putting on a show for the freshman milling around, quietly chattering among themselves, "Bye Mr.Sharpe".
