Grading papers. Those damn kids. I could hate them all if the Council would let me. That would be the Concerned Catholic Parents and Teachers Council, of course. I have been a teacher at St. Peter's High School for three years. I was meant for greater things. "Go to a Catholic school," my friends told me, "Get to see all those little girls in their little skirts. Aren't you still allowed to spank them?" Well, at least the skirts are still there. Some of those little sluts don't look half bad. But the spanking...well, that's out. Apparently, some teacher got a hard-on while spanking a freshman once, and he ruined it for the rest of us. The Council couldn't have us showing any pleasure in our jobs; that just wouldn't be prudent. Goddamn pussies.
Doorbell. Jesus, who the fuck...? And there she is. Little Miss Fifth Period herself. She's still in her uniform, too. Five feet, four inches of barely legal blonde bombshell. She sits in the front, crossing and uncrossing her legs, giving me just enough panty shots so that I know she doesn't wear them on test days. I teach her class while standing behind a podium, so no one can see the erections I get watching her. She has been the focus of many a fantasy, believe me. And she's failing. Maybe I'll have her again next year...
"Umm...Mr.—"
"What are you doing here? How'd you get my address?" I cut her off, enjoying the startled look in her eyes.
"Well, you're in the phonebook—"
"And that gives you license to invade my privacy?"
"But, sir, I just wanted to talk to you—"
"You have my class everyday. Talk to me then." I go to shut the door in her face, but one soft hand, a hand I have imagined wrapped around my cock I don't know how many times, reaches out and stops the door. I look down into green eyes, so intense and startling on her sweet, peaches 'n cream face.
"I had to talk to you in privacy, sir." It's the second time she's said that, "sir," and it makes me ache to take her, every time those soft lips form that delicious word. You could say I'm a bit of a Dom.
"Well? What is it?" My voice is impatient, callous, but I'm fighting off an erection with everything I've got.
"Can I come in?" I open the door just wide enough for her to squeeze in, and resist the urge to smack that tight ass as it wiggles into my living room.
"Okay, you're in. Now, why are you here?" I try to give her the meanest, most annoyed look I can muster, despite the fact that this is a very welcome distraction from grading papers.
"Sir, it's about my grades—"
"Yes, you're failing."
"But...! Isn't there anything I can do? Write an essay, do a report, I mean, come on! Your class is really hard!" That's not the only thing that's hard at this point.
"Look, I don't give extra credit. End of story. Now, if that's all..."
"PLEASE! I can't fail! I've never failed anything in my life!" She rushes to me, puts her hands on my chest and looks up at me with those big eyes, and it makes me want to bend her over and fuck her right there. "I'll do anything." Those eyes make me lose all semblance of sense.
"Anything?" My voice has taken on that characteristic rasp that every Dom has when they slip completely into the role. "You'd do anything? Anything at all?" I look down at her with what could only be a lascivious grin. To my surprise, she presses against me harder, and my half-erect dick is suddenly pushing its way toward that little skirt. Even with my pants in the way, she has to know exactly how I feel about this situation, but she doesn't seem to notice.
"Yes, sir. I will do anything you want. I refuse to fail." Those eyes are determined, sincere. And then she's getting down on her knees, and I imagine her hands trailing along my chest, moving to the button on my jeans, then the zipper...and then I snap out of it. She's on her knees before me, a look of pleading on her face. She's in tears, begging me to give her some leniency, but her grades are the last thing on my mind.
"You'll do anything, you little slut?" I snarl, "Then suck my cock."
Her eyes go wide, and it's as if she suddenly becomes aware of her kneeling position, and the now obvious bulge in my jeans.
"What?" she stammers, as if the little whore is not familiar with the act I've mentioned.
"You heard me. Do it."
There is a single moment of hesitation, and then she closes her eyes, and keeps them closed, as she indeed reaches for my fly, and suddenly she's reaching in, and those hands, just as soft as I imagined, are around my stiff cock.
She looks up at me and says, defeated, "Yes, sir." Then her perfect, pink lips part, and I'm inside her hot mouth. At this point, I'm ready to go off like a rocket, but the three years of training myself not to show my desires have really paid off. But, God, she is good. Her eyes never leave my face as she drives me into her mouth, swirling her tongue around my shaft, going as far down as she can, then drawing up to the tip in one, long stroke. She places little kisses all around the head while using one hand to jerk me off, and the other to cling to me for balance. Despite my best efforts, I am close, so I reach down and run my fingers through her hair, letting my fingers get ensnarled in the silken strands. Then I grab the back of her head, snatching her off my member.