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New Lesson 2

Miss Winslow asks for another lesson, to help her behave.

With a sigh I closed the folder, moved it to the ‘graded’ pile, and opened the next one. I’d stayed late to catch up the grading; despite bringing them home each night I’d gotten little done, and I had several folders of work to grade before the end of the week. I’d gotten through two so far and was starting to feel rumblings of hunger. One more, then I would finish the rest tonight after eating. I was mulling over dinner choices in my head, determining preparation times and balancing my appetite against grading time when a knock disrupted my musings. I turned to the door to see Miss Winslow there.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Fletcher."

I looked at her anew and saw the young self-minded girl instead of the willful, disruptive seductress she presented herself as in my class. There had been no further incidents of challenging taunts since her behavior lesson two weeks before. Nor had there been any additional 'attitude adjustment' session to keep her in her place. She had been well behaved and studious in every class, respectful and attentive. The 'session' had not been mentioned by her and, apparently, the rest of the class had been able to keep stories of it between themselves.

The days of unbearable fear of discovery and dismissal and scandal had dwindled to a dull ache in the pit of my stomach. I regretted losing my temper, losing my control. It was unprofessional and a direct violation of school policy, not to mention public standards. I'd taught my classes, prepared my lessons, remained aloof and impersonal, hoping for the best and expecting the worst, learning to live with the knot of fear that dwindled each day. But I’d been distracted from grading and the work had piled up.

Seeing her there, the knot returned to full size, along with my excitement at the memory of her. Panic and thrill charged through me, causing an involuntary shudder.

"Miss Winslow," I managed. "Why, uhm," I stammered, unsuccessfully trying to maintain control, "what are you doing...I mean, uh, what brings you here?"

She slipped into the room and allowed the door to close behind her. I glanced nervously at her and the glass door panel she stood framed in. Anyone could see in if they happened by. It was long after hours and not likely, but still, if someone walked by, saw us…

"I wanted to ask," she said, stepping tentatively forward in baby steps. "That is, I wanted to know something. Ask something," she amended.

I pushed the chair back, inflating myself into full teacher mode, adding proper authority to my voice. In the back of my mind ideas raged in conflict; one, of her complaint against me, the other of her need for more. Cold sweat prickled my skin in places I didn't wear deodorant.

"Yes?" I asked helpfully, prodding. She lowered her head and looked up from under lidded eyes. A look I knew and recognized. The last time I'd seen it she'd been looking up at me, her mouth filled with my cock. Or had it been when she was eating her classmate's pussy?

"I wanted to apologize," she stammered. "I know I've the past..." She trailed off, her words slipping to whispers. I realized then that she was as nervous, maybe more nervous than I was. It fed my ego and I strutted my position of power.

"Yes, that's true," I said, not mentioning her corrective behavior adjustment. She looked me squarely in the eyes and her look told me she was recalling those events just as I was.

"I...I've tried to be better, to be more..." Her expression said she was struggling for the word.

"Appropriate?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow and cocking my head. Inside my pants, my other head cocked with me. Damn him! I thought. But with irrational impulse borne of desire that made me bolder than I felt I turned my chair, pointing my knees in her direction.

"Yes, sir," she squeaked timidly. She shrugged her shoulders and the innocent schoolgirl impression slid off her like a discarded cloak to reveal the sexual dynamo dressed in a school uniform, all sultry desire and lust packaged inside her young, beautiful frame. I began to question her stated reason for coming here after school, hoping and longing battling with my fear of reprisal.

"I've never had a student like you before, you know," I commented, and she graced me with a blushing smile. "Such potential and brilliance in someone so young and beautiful," I continued, emboldened, "but wrapped in defiance and confrontation."

"I know," she whispered, holding her position halfway between my chair and the closed door. "I have a...challenging streak. Sometimes I just...can't control it."

"You've done very well these last few weeks, I have to admit," I observed. "Understand that I believe that questioning authority is a good trait." My heart leapt to my throat as her head lifted and her bright eyes sparkled with excitement. "I don't want to crush it out of you, not at all." I leaned forward in my seat. "It is how you express your defiance that irks me." I pointed a finger at her. "When you become disruptive."

Admonishment crossed her expression but only for a flash. "I don't mean to be disruptive, Mr. Fletcher, really I don't." The momentary shame was replaced with eagerness. "And I've tried, you've seen it, you said so."

"Yes, there has been a marked improvement in your behavior." I paused, considering my next words. "Since your...uhm...behavior adjustment."

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. My cock throbbed to full mast, tenting my pants. I opened my legs wider and she didn't balk or run. There had been no threats nor hint of complaint, and my libido raced in front of my sense, firing my imagination. Fuck, I want her!

"Yes, sir, I've tried," she stammered, her eyes glancing at the obvious mound below my belt. "I don't think I can do it alone, though," she finished in a near-whisper. Was she going to ask for further correction? I trembled with excitement. "I need help, Mr. Fletcher." Her eyes lifted to mine, shining brightly, her lips slightly parted in a sensuous pout. "It's so hard..." She trailed off.

I felt a grin creep across my face even as my legs parted. I watched her eyes drop down to the impressive bulge I was sporting.

"Why, yes, Miss Winslow," I sneered, "it's very hard." I heard her breath catch. The little minx! She knew exactly what I meant! "So tell me, Miss Winslow, what can I do for you today?" I eased myself slowly out of the chair and stood, my erect cock obvious and pointing at her as if it were a divining rod.

"I feel," she stammered, her eyes flashing from my crotch to my face. "Powerless. Helpless." Her teeth clenched and she took a deep breath. "Unable to stop myself, Mr. Fletcher."

I took a menacing step towards her. "Miss Winslow," I warned tersely, "if you can't be more specific," I continued, reaching for my zip and pulling it slowly down, "perhaps you need something to improve your focus?" I reached in through the fly in my boxer briefs and worked my cock out, hearing her gasp as it bounced free. I stood there with my erection jutting out at her. A moment of residual panic swept me as I watched her, frozen to the spot, staring at my swollen member. I swallowed the fear and took the initiative, knowing I was right about her.

"Now tell me, Miss Winslow," I growled, "what exactly do you want from me?" Her head lifted and her eyes met mine again, glittering wetly. As I gazed into her seductive countenance the corners of her eyes crinkled and her lips curled at the corners. This , I thought, this is the girl! This is the one who wants what she wants, takes what she is told to take, and loves it. This is the one I wanted, the one I remember from that day....

"I need help behaving," she croaked in a lovely, throaty whisper. "Guidance, like last time."

"More specific," I commanded.

She inhaled shakily. "I need you to fuck me," she cooed.

As though she were in charge! I grabbed my cock and motioned it at her. "Show me, then," I told her. "Show me your cunt." Her lips parted to allow a sharp breath. "Show me how wet you are, you devilish slut!"

Her lids flickered as her eyes rolled partway up into her head and her jaw slackened as she released the breath. Her hands found the bottom edge of her skirt and she lifted it, raising it slowly up her firm, bare thighs. Her head lolled slightly to the side as the fabric cleared the pale juncture of thigh and hip, pausing a second with just the hint of pantiless shaved lips exposed, then continued up showing the rest of her perfect slit and bulging clit hood.

I nearly swooned. Fuck .

I gazed longingly at her pussy, moisture glistening delicately between her lips, her delicious flesh swollen and plump. I shook my head and regained control of the situation.

"Your fingers," I told her, recalling the energizing power of exerting authority over her. "Put your fingers in your cunt."

She released the skirt with one hand, holding it up with the other, and trailed her free fingers lightly across her slit. "Why should I?" she asked coyly, adding a teasing lilt of innocence that belied her display.

"Miss Winslow!" I barked sharply. "You're too smart to act dumb!" I lowered my voice to a growl. "Or perhaps you'd like me to bend you over the desk and fuck you stupid?"

Her eyes closed and she practically collapsed to her knees in euphoria, skirt raised, thighs spread wide and moaning loudly as she shoved three manicured fingers inside herself, stretching her lips around her hand, her wrist flexing as she pushed them in, hard. I stepped closer, grabbed her hair and angled her head back. Her mouth dropped open giving me a brief glimpse of her tongue stud and I eased my cock inside.

"There's a good girl," I moaned, "take my cock while you fuck yourself." I looked up at the door. The glass panel was wide open. It was after hours, but the school wasn't deserted. Anyone walking by...

"You little slut," I whispered, "look at you, on your knees sucking my cock, you sexy bitch." The words came out in a breathy hiss. "Shoving your hand up your hungry cunt..." I pulled her hair and pushed my hips, forcing my cock into the back of her mouth, feeling the resistance. Her stud trailed up the underside of my shaft. "With the door window right there, where anyone can see you."

Her eyes flashed up at me, dancing in delighted amusement. I felt her growl on my swollen head. I snarled down at her and pushed harder, forcing myself into her throat. She coughed and pushed her hand harder.

"You want my cock, need my cock, don't you, Miss Winslow?" Her lips tried to smile around me as she nodded and her throat stroked my shaft, sending tremors of thrill through me. "And my cock wants you, too..." I heard wet slapping noises as she stiffened her fingers and fucked herself. My cock felt perfect in her mouth, and I wanted desperately to just keep fucking her face. I pushed until my balls were on her chin and sighed before pulling completely out and releasing her hair.

She sat back on her feet and gasped for breath, her hand almost a blur, speeding her fingers in and out of her soaking pussy.

My pussy.

I had to have it. Now.

I leaned over her, grabbing her under the arms and lifted her to her feet, pulling her hand from her cunt in the motion. She groaned with dismay, her eyes pleading and confused.

"Please, I was so close," she squeaked as I pulled her to her feet. Before she could steady herself I pulled her to the side of the big desk and spun her to face me, her butt against the edge.

"Miss Winslow," I scolded in low, measured tones, "if you are going to beg," I sneered as I pushed her backwards on to the desk, "maybe you should beg me to fuck you!" Her ass scooted up and across my papers, leaving a wet trail on my attendance book. She propped herself up on one elbow and pulled her feet to the edge of the desk, spreading her legs, leering at me with an amused grin over her exposed pussy. The glistening fingers of her free hand returned to her hole, burrowing inside. I undid my pants and dropped them to my ankles.

"Mr. Fletcher," she teased with lusty innocence, "you dirty old man, please, fuck me with your hard cock!" My head swam as I stepped between her knees. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away and lined up my dripping cockhead at her opening. I let it sit there, poised against her parted lips, resting against the pink slash of her. It was a sight I would never forget and I let it burn into my brain. With my free hand I pushed the head down and watched my swollen plum pop inside her. With my other hand I pulled her wrist to my face. My mouth opened and I shoved her fingers into my mouth as I thrust my hips forward.

I sucked her juices from her delicate digits as I filled her cunt with my shaft, pushing deep, circling and pressing in until I felt her flesh against mine. I moaned around her fingers as she collapsed back, laying flat on the desk, the sound of wrinkling and tearing papers mixing with her throaty sigh. Her velvet walls gripped me as I pressed in. Fuck, her cunt was made for me! I pulled her fingers from my mouth and licked the length of them as I began thrusting in and out.

I suffered a moment of clarity, remembering the uncovered glass in the door, but the sensation of my cock sliding in and out of her delicious slick tunnel forced those thoughts aside and I lost myself in my desire for her, this upstart sexual dynamo, this troublesome, difficult fulfillment of my wildest dreams. I grabbed her milky thigh with one hand and released her wrist from my other. I pulled her blouse from her skirt waistband and slid my palm up her flat belly, reaching up until her pouty firm breast filled my hand. I squeezed it hard before pulling back down and sliding it up under the flimsy fabric, all the while increasing the pace and ferocity of my thrusts.

Books and folders fell off the desk. I squeezed her breast hard, found the full erect nipple and pinched and pulled. She squealed. I grunted, pounding my cock into her. Wet slaps announced the repeated joining. Her arms flailed wildly then found her own legs, pulling her knees up to her chest. I slid her closer until her juicy firm ass cheeks hung at the edge of the desk, spilling more papers on the floor. I drove deep and drove hard. She curled her hips up to meet me. I clenched my teeth at the almost painful ecstasy, wanting her, needing her. Taking her for my own.

She gave every moment right back.

She flung her legs over my shoulders and her hands reached for my neck, fingers twined in my hair and she pulled herself up, almost doubled in half. She bared her teeth and snarled her passion at me.

"Fuck me, Mr. Fletcher," she seethed, "fucking own my cunt! Give me your cum! Fill me! Don't ever stop!"

My hand went to her face, cupping her tender smooth flesh in my palm. Her eyelids lowered, shadowing her dark pupils. I slid the hand behind her neck, my fingers in her hair.

"Fuck you, Miss Winslow?" I hissed. "Are you telling me what to do?" I pulled her face to within inches of my own and glared wildly at her. "You think you're the boss of me?" She released a sweet, hot breath into my face as I shoved my cock deep, grinding into her. "Maybe you should use your mouth for something else..." I pulled her head to me and her lips met mine, parted and soft and wet, her upper lip damp with sweat. I kissed her hard, the urgency of our fuck duplicated in our mouths as tongues slipped and slid against each other, moist gasps passing mixed with grunts and moans and sweet sultry satisfied murmurs. Her stud felt hard and cold as it stroked my eager tongue.

Her mouth was sexy and hot and her cunt was wet and slick and my cock was throbbing and thrusting. I felt her walls clench and pulse as I stroked in and out, the beginnings of her climax evident on my cock, in her hands on my neck, in her breathing and sounds and lips and tongue. My balls were tight up to my body and I felt the unmistakable beginnings of my eruption build as hers towered and threatened and then broke violently through her, her limbs going rigid and stiff as she squealed and gasped into my mouth. My cock swelled and stiffened as her pussy walls rippled and pulsed and then I was groaning into our kiss as my insides clenched and I exploded inside her with a force that felt like it would propel her away. Over and over I jetted streams of hot cum into her clenching cunt, filling her sweet young belly.

Her legs slipped from my shoulders and I pulled her close to me, holding her tightly against my body, feeling her arms snake around my back. She clung to me as my cock twitched and her orgasm finished and dwindled. We ground against each other in a tight full-body clench, gasping and breathing hard as our racing heartbeats pounded, then slowed and eased. My cock began to deflate even as I slipped it slowly in and out of her cum-filled pussy, enjoying the afterglow and the slicked motion. Her head was in my chest and I grazed her hair with small kisses.

She looked up at me. The devilish grin had returned. "That was just what I needed, Mr. Fletcher." She batted her eyes at me and I felt a smile crease my face. "I'm sure I'll be able to behave in class now," she coughed a chuckle, "at least for a little while."

I slid my dwindling cock from her and dropped a hand between us. "You're not done yet, Miss Winslow," I suggested as I slipped two fingers inside her steaming fuck hole. "There's quite a mess here." I pulled my fingers out and brought my hand to her face, the digits coated in our cum. Her lips parted and I slid them into her hungry mouth and enjoyed the sight of her, eyes closed as she sucked and licked us from my fingers and made yummy sounds. When she was done she kissed my fingertips and smiled.

I smiled back. Then I pulled her hair and yanked her off the desk, scattering a flurry of ungraded papers. She dropped to her knees and took my cock into her mouth, bathing it with lips and pierced attentive tongue, sucking me clean. I watched her every motion and expression, rapt by the heavenly vision of her with her mouth filled with my cock.

When she was done she stood and pushed her body up against mine. "I'm not sure how long it will hold me," she whispered breathily. "Will it be all right if I come back in a few days for...a refresher?"

"I'm sure we can work out something, Miss Winslow," I replied, trying to force stern authority into my voice. "I feel compelled to...assist you, in any way I can." I lifted her chin up with my fingertips until she faced me. "And there are many, many ways I would like to assist you."

Her face glowed in that raw, knowing sexuality she wore so easily. "I'm sure there are, Mr. Fletcher," she cooed with mock innocence. "Why just before you said you would bend me over the desk, but instead you-"

I cut her off by grabbing her shoulders, spinning her around to face away from me. I pushed her down over the desk and stepped between her legs, shoving my hand between her thighs and stroking the leaking honeypot as she shrieked in delight. I leaned down over her upper body as my fingers entered her open cunt.

My voice was low and sharp. "Miss Winslow, the day will come that I bend you over," I lectured harshly. "But know that when I do," I said, trailing my fingers out and up the lovely soft valley between her ass cheeks, "it may not be your sweet little cunt I shove my cock into!" My cum-slicked fingers found her tight crinkle and pressed there, rubbing in circles at the rubbery knot and teasing the opening.

"Oh, Mr. Fletcher!" she sighed, then giggled. "I would have to be a very bad girl for you-"

"You are a bad girl, Miss Winslow, very bad indeed." I stood up, staring at her ass as she held her position. "And you are my bad girl, now!"

She looked back at me, and smiled.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © This piece contains adult oriented material not intended for minors, and is the copyright property of the author. The use of any material in part or its entirety for profit is strictly prohibited. Copying, reposting, publication or duplication without the express permission of the author is prohibited.

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