9 comments/ 20778 views/ 20 favorites Extra Attention Ch. 02 By: lovefeelingslutty I could hear his footsteps, I was hyper-aware of Mr. Christiansen coming up behind me -- and furthermore, he knew that I knew he was there. Though he didn't touch me, I could feel his hand ghosting around the curve of my ass. "Good Morning, Mr. Christiansen," I said in a voice so calm I deserved an Oscar, "did you have a good summer?" Abruptly, I felt his hand come down on my ass, a hard slap that made me jump in surprise. Then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, him drop his brief case next to his desk in preparation. "How on Earth was I supposed to have a pleasant summer, Miss Gavin? When I knew that what is mine was being paraded around every day in nothing but a sports bra and tiny, slutty shorts?" his voice was as calm as mine, but I could hear the rage simmering underneath. I was confused by what he meant, and I made the mistake of trying to stand upright. I tried to move, but as soon as I started to turn, his chest was pressed into my back, his iron-hard forearms wrapped around my middle in an unbreakable embrace. "The classroom in which we had our in-service days gave me a perfect view of the field hockey field. I watched you spend hours running, practically naked, for anyone to see. The way you poured your water bottles on each other was downright pornographic, and now you're trying to move without me telling you to do so. I'm going to teach you a lesson, Miss. Gavin. Can you guess what it is?" His hot breath on my ear was causing me to shiver, and when I took too long to answer he bit down on my lobe -- hard. "I'm yours," I gasped at the pain and the arousal it caused. "That's the lesson -- that I'm yours." He quickly sucked on the bite, easing the sting, before he stepped back. "Very good. Though, I'm afraid, that won't get you out of your punishment. Now lift up that skirt and bend over the desk like a good girl." Shakily, I pulled my skirt up and resumed my position. I heard him let out a low groan at the sight of me bent over in a g-string and knee highs, before his pale, long-fingered hand snaked into view, picking up the ruler off his desk. "Moan for me, Miss. Gavin." The ruler came down across my ass, hard enough that I felt the sting, but pleasurable enough that I felt liquid pooling in my g-string. He brought it down twice more, and by the third time, I had to bite my lip to muffle my moan. Mr. Christiansen paused, knowing I had held back. "You're going to defy me, then? If you keep that up, I'll hold off your release until you're begging me on your fucking knees." The ruler was brought down six more times, and by then I was desperate to rub my legs together -- anything to ease the throbbing between them. "Are you wet for me, Miss. Gavin?" "Ye-yes, Mr. Christiansen" That most definitely came out as a moan. "Hmm. Let's see, shall we?" Then he brought the ruler up between my legs and lightly spanked my clit. The moan I let out this time was apparently loud enough to satisfy him, because abruptly he was pressed over me, his hard length against my ass. I could feel his hand running along the inside of my thigh, and then two of his fingers were running up and down my slit through the soaking fabric of my g-string. "P-please Mr. Christiansen." I begged, even as my hips bucked, trying to get his fingers to do something, anything, more. "Say it. Say it and I'll give you what your young, tight little cunt has been begging for." He was placing wet kisses against the back of my neck as he spoke, and I could feel him rubbing himself against the curve of my ass. "I'm yours. Always yours." The second I let out the declaration, he was spreading me open, though still confined to my g-string. He began rubbing my clit ever so lightly with his finger as he bit down hard on the back of my neck, a perfect mix between pleasure and pain. I moaned so loudly that they could probably hear me throughout the entire building, and began rubbing my hips in time with the strokes of his finger. His thumb replaced his finger on my clit, and then his finger was pushing my g-string aside and sinking into my wet, aching center. A second finger roughly joined the first, pumping in and out of me while still rubbing my clit with his thumb. "Mmm, you're so hot and tight, I can't wait to feel you around my cock." His words, combined with him curling his fingers inside of me, was creating the wonderful building of tension in my stomach, and I knew I was close to climaxing. Mr. Christiansen leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Good girl. Cum for me. Make this slutty little cunt cum all over my fingers." Then he pinched my clit, and I was suddenly tightening around his fingers, biting my lip so hard to keep from screaming that I drew blood. As I came down off my high, I registered that he was still rubbing against me, and I knew the pleasure was far from over. When I heard him fiddling with his belt buckle, my suspicions were confirmed. "Now, I'm going to fuck you while you're bent over this desk. And it'll be so hard you'll be seeing fucking stars." "It's 6:30am and another bright and sunny morning here in the greater Hartford area..." And that's how I woke up almost every morning over the summer. This particular morning was different, though. Summer was officially over, and it was the first day of school. I would be seeing Mr. Christiansen every day again. One would think I'd be excited, anxious even, to get up and ready for the day. But I hadn't seen him since the night of Cotillion. When he didn't try to contact me right away, I was mildly insulted. After a few weeks, I was disappointed and I questioned myself A LOT. By the time I started field hockey, and began seeing his car among others in the faculty parking lot, I was a little pissed, but decided to move on. I couldn't let my personal feelings get in the way of my senior year, in the way of Yale. Of course I wasn't so 'over it' that I made sure I looked especially good as I got ready for school. The summer sun had been kind to me, leaving my skin with a tan glow and highlights in my already blonde hair. After I put on my uniform, I slipped on my regulation 2 inch heels and headed out the door to get coffee before my first class. I was pleased with my schedule, and happy I wouldn't have to see Mr. Christiansen until just before lunch. I'd had most of my teachers before, and listening to them drone on about the syllabus was just too boring when I had other things on my mind. I double checked my appearance in the bathroom before I hesitantly headed for third block. I focused on keeping my breathing in check as I approached his classroom door. There were a few others in front of me walking toward the same door, so I hoped I would be able to just sneak in quietly, without grabbing his attention. No such luck. He was leaning against the edge of his desk, facing all of us when he addressed me. "Good morning, Miss Gavin. How was your summer?" It was frustrating, unsatisfying and disappointing, Mr. Christiansen, how was yours? "It was fine, sir. How was yours?" I responded noncommittally, refusing to look at him. "It left much to be desired, glad to be back." I heard him say. "Well, great." I dismissed him. It wasn't like he didn't know how to find me, how to get ahold of me. I spent practically the whole summer with Jessica, and my personal e-mail was on those contact cards we fill out for every class at the start of the semester. I wasn't expecting some long letter of him confessing his love for me, or for him to be around Jessica's all that often, but even a little effort, or even just the courtesy of letting me know he was pulling the plug would have been great. But I received no e-mail. No letter. He was never at Jessica's; even during a few of the family gatherings I had attended. I immediately regretted looking up when I finally did. All I could pay attention to when I looked at him was the view I had from my knees, his scent that I inhaled when we were dancing, his words that gave me chills. The reminders constantly flooding my mind made me feel embarrassed as I was brought back to reality by the harsh realization. He didn't really ever want me the way that I wanted him and at that point I actually was just another desperate slut who begged for his cock. Who knew how many others he did that with? My eyes glossed over as I came to my conclusion, but I quickly blinked them back, so as not to draw attention to myself. It took a few minutes, but I finally suppressed the dull ache in my throat urging me to cry, so I could focus on the syllabus and what he was saying. My suspicions of his disinterest were confirmed when he didn't even make an effort to stop me on my way out of class, not even a meager attempt to explain himself. I spent the rest of the day in a terrible mood, keeping mostly to myself and took my frustration out on the field as we did our running for the day. I only needed to make it through two more days before a three day weekend Labor Day graciously gave us. I planned to spend the weekend with Jessica, since my parents decided to make their trip to the Hamptons a romantic get-away, instead of a family affair. I'd become something of a staple at her family functions, feeling right at home with her parents and extended family. Minus Mr. Christiansen, of course. We had a home game on Friday to finish off the longest three days of my life. After an exhausting tied game, we ended up winning in overtime. It was a satisfying win, after an hour and a half of playing back and forth with them, but it also meant I was late getting to Jessica's. I skipped showering, and just threw all my things in the back of my Mercedes, where the bags for my weekend rested, already packed and ready to go. I barely got my shin guards off while I slipped on my flip flops and hopped in to the driver's seat, waving goodbye to my teammates. Forty five minutes later, I was pulling in to Jessica's large estate. Their housekeeper took my bags upstairs while I walked out back to greet my surrogate family. "Ashton, finally! We were gettin' worried about you!" Jessica's mom, Sarah drawled as she stood up and wrapped her arms around me to greet me. "And you're filthy, baby!" "Sorry, we went in to overtime at my game, so I just came straight here when we were done, and figured I could shower here instead." I apologized to the overly loving woman. "But we won!" "What was the score?" Jessica asked, excitedly. She also played field hockey at her school. "3-2. I made the last goal." I announced proudly. "Well that calls for celebration then," Sarah lifted her glass, "go on and get cleaned up for dinner, and I'll have Olivia open another bottle of Rosé." Another great thing about Jessica's mom: she was always ready to celebrate any occasion with top shelf anything. I came back downstairs a short while later polished and dressed in a simple coral sundress and used a small clip to pull my bangs back, but left my hair down after I dried it. I dusted myself with a little bit of make-up and declared myself ready for the evening. Sarah had a flare for drama, so we always dressed for dinner. As I walked out on to the deck where everyone was, Jessica readily greeted me with a glass of wine. I sat down in the empty chair next to hers and we talked among ourselves until Sarah announced she needed a refill, and took our glasses to do the same. "So when is dinner? I'm starved." I casually asked Jessica. "I think we're just waiting on Uncle Dan." She responded, looking around. "Mom finally got him to agree to spend the weekend. It'll be cool to have the whole family here. Mom was, like, super bummed that she hasn't seen him all summer." "Ah..." I nodded. Seriously? He decides to show up now? WHAT THE FUCK. "Hey, let's start the weekend on a high note. What do you say we go roll a blunt?" she said with a wicked smile. "Count me in!" I immediately agreed. Fuck it. If he wasn't going to make it easy for me, then I was done making it easy on him. I was going to show him exactly what he passed up, and make him regret stringing me along. Jess and I went upstairs and leisurely passed a blunt back and forth. As we finished, our hunger was getting the best of us, so we took our wine glasses and went back downstairs. We fumbled over each other as we went back out on the deck, giggling and effectively incriminating ourselves. "Jessica Louise, I hope you lit a candle." Sarah said accusingly. "Of course, mom. I made sure of it." I assured her. "I need a refill, can I get you one, too?" Sarah's façade melted as she cracked a smile when I reached for her glass. "Thank you, angel." I refilled our glasses and returned to the deck, while we stayed engrossed in ourselves. I was extremely high, and Jessica and I were having the time of our lives. I barely noticed when Mr. Christiansen finally showed up, only taking note that everyone was heading inside to eat. I stopped in the kitchen to once again refill my glass when I was interrupted. "Drinking underage again, Miss Gavin?" he lightly scolds. But Sarah comes to my rescue. "Oh now, none of that, Dan. She's as good as family 'round here. You are not teacher and student in my house; when you're here, you are simply Ashton and Dan." "Yeah Dan," I emphasized his name with a drunk smile, "I'm not your student here." Glass in hand, I took my seat at the very large table next to Jessica. Looking around, I noticed the vast majority of Jessica's extended family was present. Sarah was one of three, and Steve, Jessica's dad, was one of six. It looked as though everyone except Steve's eldest brother's family had made it, so far. My count seemed pretty accurate. "So Ashton, how's senior year looking?" Steve asked while we ate. "Pretty great, so far; busy, but good. I'm actually really excited to have a weekend off to relax. Jess and I spent almost every free moment on the beach with Surf Rider, but it's totally paid off. I've been involved every summer since I was 13, and since then, the fatality rate for ocean life due to trash has dropped 86%." I responded. "It really is so important to keep the beaches clean." Jessica enthusiastically added. "Though with school starting, I'm hoping to find something a little closer to home to get involved in. I might get involved with the Healthy Hearts Club, since it's so personal for me." "Any boyfriends?" Sarah chimed in. "No," I shook my head with a smile, "no boyfriends. I'm focusing on school." "Well you go easy on the twins tomorrow; those boys love you!" The twins Sarah referred to were the sons of Steve's oldest brother. Ian and Alec were just starting their second year of college and they were arriving the following day with their parents. I blushed at her comment, they did give me quite a bit of attention. And I was going to use that to my advantage. Let Mr. Christiansen see what he's missing. Anyway... "What are your college plans?" "Well I'm hoping for Yale, but I'm also applying to Harvard, Princeton and Dartmouth." "Those are excellent choices. I suppose your father has already made you a shoe-in at Dartmouth, yes?" Steve grinned, knowing my dad was a Dartmouth man. "He has, but Yale is still the goal." I confirmed. "Well that's wonderful, Jessica is also a Yale hopeful." Steve acknowledged with approval. "And with all the community service you girls have done and how involved you are in athletics, what college wouldn't take you?!" Sarah boasted. "How great would that be go to Yale together? We could be roommates!" Jessica gushed. "Um, definitely!" I added with the same enthusiasm. "Sarah and I are set to have dinner with Dean Carrigan and his wife next week, and I'll put in a good word." "Oh, I wouldn't want to steal Jessica's thunder..." I hesitated. "Nonsense, baby. Jessica's been as good as in since she was just a little girl. Consider it done." Sarah said with a wink. "Well thank you, I really appreciate it," I said, sincerely to my surrogate parents. "We're happy to do anything we can, Ashton." Steve assured me. "Just name it and it will be yours, every time." "You mean you can introduce me to the Backstreet Boys?" I clutched my chest, feigning shock, "that's it, I am moving in next week!" The others around the table chuckled at my joke until Sarah changed the subject. "So Dan, how's that girlfriend of yours? Tina? Tara?" I dropped my fork on to my plate. "It was Taylor, and we broke up a couple of months ago." He curtly replied. So that's what it was. He had a girlfriend. Oh it's on. -:- Saturday morning, I woke up and headed downstairs for breakfast. I decided against putting a bra on, and stayed only in my tank top and small boxer shorts. It would catch Mr. Christiansen's attention, but still be casual enough to get away with. I was the first one up for breakfast, so I made myself a plate from the large spread of everything breakfast related in the kitchen. Taking my plate and my kindle, I set them down at the dining room table, and made myself a cup of coffee before diving in to my fruit and the Hunger Games. A few minutes later, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, Mr. Christiansen came in with a plate and newspaper. I pretended not to notice him, and just kept my focus on my Kindle. "Miss Gavin," he greeted. Moments later, I looked up at him with a blank expression. "Yeah?" He grimaced at my reaction, but quickly recovered. "I was merely saying good morning." "Oh." I flatly replied, and then looked back down at my e-book. We sat in the silence another few minutes before he tried again. "Ashton, I think we should talk soon." I shook my head, having none of it. "You had your chance. My body may still crave you every single night, but I sure don't. So why don't you go call your girlfriend?" I finished planting my seed, so I didn't even let him respond. I just got up and walked away. He had some nerve, expecting me to just fall all over myself for him again. Fuck that. I took my time showering and getting ready, but about an hour later, I was desperate for another cup of coffee, so I went to find Jessica, who was already showered and ready for the day, too. We didn't bother to get dressed in anything other than our bathing suits. Of course I chose the smallest one I owned, a simple and tiny white string bikini with just a small little cover-up romper over it. Jess and I went straight for the pool side. As I shed my cover-up, I left it off for the day, giving Mr. Christiansen every opportunity and reason to look. When Jessica's eldest uncle showed up with the twins, I greeted them enthusiastically, letting them pick me up and twirl me around. Behind my sunglasses, I was free to shamelessly look around to see if he was watching. Oh, he was watching, alright. He watched as I wrapped my legs around each of them when they spun me, he watched as I innocently asked Ian to help me put the tanning oil on my back and shoulders, and he watched every time I flipped in to the pool from the diving board. I reveled in the feeling of teasing him. I made him want me, and frustrated him by throwing it in his face that he couldn't have me. I may have turned in to just another slut in class who wanted him, but I had every intention of making him feel the same way he made me feel. Frustrated and alone. After lunch, I went inside to fix my chlorine filled hair. As soon as I reached the end of the hall, I was pushed in to the office adjacent from the door I had been headed for. Of course it was Mr. Christiansen, and he looked pissed. He pushed me against the door he just slammed shut, the weight of his body strong against mine. It was like he had a key that just woke up my body; none of my fantasies compared to the real thing. Extra Attention Ch. 02 "Listen you little tease, I broke up with Taylor because it was your hot little mouth I was picturing when she was sucking me off, and you I imagined beneath me when I fucked her. I don't appreciate you traipsing around in practically nothing teasing the hell out of me, when we both know what you want- and it isn't those frat boys outside." He growled at me. I shook my head, keeping my gaze away from him. "Well then you should have done something about it when you had the chance." I petulantly responded. He actually laughed in my face. I wanted to fucking punch him. "Baby, you say that like your body isn't craving its owner, like I couldn't just pull this flimsy piece of fabric aside and fuck you like we both know you need." I scoffed. "If you actually wanted me, we wouldn't be here right now." "Is that a joke?" he spat out, "you think I don't want you? Seriously Ashton, how can you even say that? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." "Oh yeah? Did I miss a phone call? An e-mail? Some divine intervention? A fucking bat signal?" I challenged. His expression softened only slightly. "This isn't something to take lightly, you're my student for Christ's sake! I could lose my career, my life, everything that I've worked for. That's not something I can just dive in to without some serious thought!" I finally found the strength and frame of mind to push him off me. I'd fucking HAD IT. "Well that's super great that figured all that out in all the time you so generously gave yourself, but it was an actual person that you dropped like a bad habit. Not one word, not one letter, NOTHING. Did you think three fucking months would pass and you could just pick me back up? That I would still be falling over myself for you?" I spat. "I didn't deserve that, and I sure as hell don't deserve this." -:- I woke up the next morning with a hangover. After my run in with Mr. Christiansen, Jessica and I started drinking pretty early. With Ian and Alec present, I drank almost twice as much the night before. But in their presence, the alcohol ironically gave me moments of clarity. What happened really sucked, and he handled it fucking HORRIBLY, but he had a point. It was his career and essentially his life that he was gambling with. To a certain extent, I understood that. I got out of bed and went straight for the shower, wanting to wash the smell of booze off me. But much to my dismay, my shower decided to only spew freezing cold water. Sarah told me to use the guest room at the end of the hall, the only one that wasn't being used, so I gathered all my shower stuff and a towel, then made a bee-line for the shower. I shut the door behind me, and turned the TV on to a music channel, making the volume loud enough for me to hear in the bathroom. I hummed along to the song playing as I stripped down and wrapped my towel around me, then opened the door to the bathroom, only to be met by a cloud of steam. I looked up, and someone was obviously in there. But more importantly; someone had just said my name. I could only get a glimpse of a vanity mirror and the sink from where I was, but I could hear the shower running and the sounds of skin rubbing against skin. Oh God, what if it's Jessica's oldest uncle, Mark? Ugh, he's so creepy... I made a conscious decision to back out of the room and book it the fuck out of there, but when I heard a groaned "fuck", I recognized the voice and my body made an unconscious decision to walk forward until I was standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Mr. Christiansen was in the shower, and his body alone was worth whatever angst the man wanted to send my way. Want to shamelessly use me and then drop me without remorse? You go for it, Sir. Just be naked while you're doing it. Shit. I had already been worked up from my relentless dreams, but that was nothing to the way a hot flush swept over my skin, to the way my lower body clenched and then throbbed, to the way my breathing suddenly became labored, or to the way my nipples peaked under my towel. I bit my lip to keep from whimpering, and the throbbing in my lower body increased instantly and dramatically. Mr. Christiansen was leaning his weight on his left leg, and the long but firm muscles in his thighs were clenched. The indentations of his hip bones were in stark relief because of his stance, and the light but defined muscles of his torso and chest were moving rapidly as he breathed heavily. The wry and sculpted strength of his arm was evident as he moved it, while the other was used to brace himself with a palm flat against the glass. His head was bowed, his eyes tightly shut, his honey blonde hair going every which way. His face looked like he was in raging agony. All of that alone would have been enough for me to die a happy girl, but it got even better. With that hand that wasn't bracing him against the glass, Mr. Christiansen was stroking the length of his erection in a quick and desperate rhythm. And I know I was face to face with the thing for a good amount of time, but I couldn't for the life of me imagine the semantics of something so thick and fucking long fitting inside a woman, let alone me. I mean sure, we had to give birth and stuff, but that involved your lady parts widening for the damn thing. This just looked like a mathematical impossibility. Like, okay. Picture an Escalade trying to park in a space that's just big enough for a Miata. That's what I was working with. He was groaning under his breath, the water beating down on his shoulders, but when he gave a particularly vicious tug and twisted his fingers around the thickhead, he moaned. "Fuck, Ashton." I thought I'd heard him say my name before I came in, but seeing him as he abused himself while moaning it increased the wetness I already had to the point where I thought I could feel it on the inside of my hips. I wanted to announce my presence by getting into the shower with him as equally as I wanted to run from the room and pretend I'd never been here. But I couldn't do either; my feet were frozen in place, my hands clutching my towel as I watched, enraptured. The pace of his hand was picking up, as was his breathing. He was biting his lip, like he didn't want to say anything, but the next second his mouth opened raggedly and he growled, "So fucking tight...wet..." Jesus Christ, what was he imagining? Putting that cock inside ME? I knew I needed to leave before I forgot the reasons I shouldn't let him bring both of our fantasies into reality -- but it was very quickly too late for that. He switched the motion of his hand, so he was twisting it around his shaft. When he did that, his whole body quivered and he thrust his hips into his hand, my name ripped from his mouth again. Then, I whimpered. Loudly. Mr. Christiansen's eyes cracked open, his head snapped up, and his hand shot away from his bobbing erection and up to the glass, wiping away the fog to see who it was. His eyes widened in shock as he saw me standing not four feet away, white knuckling my towel. I tried to coherently explain that I had accidentally walked in, but it wouldn't come out. All I could do was open and close my mouth like a goldfish. My brain so clogged with excitement that I couldn't even attempt to pry my eyes away to flee. He seemed to be having similar issues of coherency, but my traitorous eyes also noted that when he spotted me there, his cock twitched. He broke eye contact with me and his aroused gaze lowered to notice I was in only a towel, and then swept down to my legs, where the slit exposed the skin up to my hips, which were crossed against the throbbing between them. For a minute the only sounds were the rushing water and the music from the TV. I think he was waiting for me to leave, which I was incapable of, and I was waiting for him to say something. He locked eyes with me again, cocking his head slightly just like he had when we danced together at Cotillion; judging my reactions. Then, incredibly slowly, watching me the entire time, he trailed his hand from the glass and back down to his cock. He let out a low growl, somewhere between pleasure and pain, as his hand wrapped around the base again. OH. MY. GOD. Was he really going to touch himself in front of me? Was there any possible way I could be more turned-on? Mr. Christiansen looked up at me from under his eyelashes, nervous, but still in control. The way he was tilting his head like that and the look he was giving me would have been coy, if it wasn't for what was happening for the neck down. I didn't move an inch, though I think I may have licked my lips, which apparently was all he needed to start pumping his fist again. "Yes..." he hissed, eyes still fixed on me. He was going slower than he had been before, trying to prolong things now. I tried to keep my eyes locked with his, but it was only half a minute before my eyes dropped to his hands movements. As soon as Mr. Christiansen saw I was looking at him he growled, his other hand clawing at the glass as if trying to break through it. "You know what I'm thinking about? How good it would feel to bury myself in you." He panted, beginning to shift his hips towards his hand, "to stretch you...to fill you..." the hand sped up again, " to pleasure you, to own you..." If he was trying to kill me, he was doing a fantastic job. I let out a moan, and then my feet, which had been glued to the ground, carried me forward, until I was standing in front of the glass. At my actions, his eyes automatically clenched shut while his cock twitched in his hand, but he forced them half open, so he looked sleepy and menacing. I proudly recognized it as his I'm-about-to-cum face. "Closer...." he breathed. I moved forward until I was basically pressed against the glass, my hand coming up so it was flat on the other side of his. He was breathing as if he had just run a marathon now, his whole body moving as he touched his length. "So fucking beautiful, Ashton..." he muttered as he stared into my eyes, and then his body went rigid and I look down to see his cum spurting out of his tip and against the glass. The water washed it away as soon as it appeared, while Mr. Christiansen kept pumping until the last drop. His head came heavily against the glass as his hand dropped wearily. Mine dropped too, though that was all I was capable of moving. I watched greedily as he caught his breath, turned the shower off, and then reached for the towel he had hanging over the top of the glass partition, all without looking at me. He made a half assed attempt at drying himself off before he slung the towel around his hips, thus denying me any future view of his behind. He stepped out of the shower, and I could see him now eyeing me warily out of my peripheral vision. Possibly wondering why I was playing the living statue. I didn't even know properly, except that I hadn't been this aroused since he fucked my mouth, and that I had just seriously realized I was willing to take any manner of ill or idle treatment if it meant I got him in the bargain. I felt his fingers graze my shoulder cautiously, then I whimpered again, which I blame completely on the dirty images that were burned onto my retinas. Mr. Christiansen sucked in a breath when the involuntary sound left my throat and quickly retracted his fingers. "They'll be expecting me downstairs soon." He said quietly, and then he added in a rush, "but I can help you, give you release. Please you, if you want me to." I'd love to deny how turned on I was, but it would have been the most barefaced lie in history, and I'm pretty certain my nose would grow, Pinocchio style. I'd also love to take him up on his offer, but in my few hours of sleep I had managed to garner some perspective, and I knew I would regret letting anything happen believing what I currently did about him. If Mr. Christiansen was certain he hadn't meant to hurt me, then he'd man up and prove it to me. And then I'd attack him like a fucking she-cat. I took a deep breath, though I wasn't capable of turning to look at him yet. "I'm fine, thank you. But I would like to, um, take a shower." From his low moan, I think he knew exactly what I would be doing in that shower. -:- I toned down my teasing considerably. As much as I loved the way my pussy throbbed and ached when shamelessly teasing the boys, and Mr. Christiansen; I was beyond frustrated, and ultimately, only making it harder on myself. Jessica had talked about how much we loved the rush it sent through us, like being drunk. But at that point I needed to get fucked hard, I needed my little teen hole abused by a big cock. I wanted to lie back in my chair, spread my legs and let him just pound away at my needy pussy, letting everyone know I belonged to him. If Mr. Christiansen didn't come around soon, I was going to make Ian slam the fuck out of me. I needed release, and I needed it soon. I was sure he would be the better of the two, always saying dirty things, and putting his hands around my hips. It seemed like we both kept a watchful eye on each other, less voyeuristic, more waiting for the other to make a move. We didn't get the chance to really talk until everyone had gone to bed. I was sitting at the table on the deck with another bottle of wine and my glass in front of me, but instead of my bathing suit, I was still dressed from dinner at the Riviera. I actually enjoy wearing dresses a lot, so I opted to keep on my flowy little navy blue strapless get-up. The bottle was half empty, and all my doing. I was just sick of the drama, it was exhausting. I downed the last of my glass and promptly refilled it. The silence was broken by the sliding glass door behind me and moments later, Mr. Christiansen sat adjacent from me, setting an empty wine glass down, silently asking me to fill it. I poured him a glass and slid it to his side of the table before I sat back. "Ashton, we really should talk about this," he finally spoke. After another large gulp, I chose my words carefully. "I don't hate you, I'm just mad that I miss you and I don't want to." "I realize how badly I've handled this, and I cannot convey how sorry I actually am. I spent a lot of time working it out alone when I should have been looking at the bigger picture, and all I can say is that it won't happen again." "Are you sure?" I raised my eyes to meet his. "Extremely sure." he groaned. I weighed the situation. Could I get over this? Could I work on trusting him again? "Okay..." I said, slowly. "Yeah?" his eyes lit up. I nodded with a small smile. "Come here," he motioned for me to move to sit on his lap. I complied, standing in front of him and then straddling him, situating so that it would be comfortable for both of us. As soon as we found the position that worked, I rested my head on his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around me, and sighed. After all of the stressing, all of the drama, all of the energy it took to get here, we were finally (sort of) at peace. There were still things to work out, but those were details that could be discussed later. All that mattered then was that it felt right again; no more resisting him, pretending like I didn't want him. "This feels good." I admitted quietly, breaking the silence. "Yes, it does." Mr. Christiansen confirmed. He turned his head to look down at me and put his hand behind my head to pull me in for a kiss, our first kiss, technically. I gave a small sigh when our lips met, which fueled him to be a little more aggressive. My fingers clutched his shirt while his tounge slipped past my lips, creating a dull ache right in that lower part of my stomach. "How hot would it be to go at it right here?" I asked, breaking the kiss and effectively ruining the moment. "That would be dangerous, little one," he warned with mischevious eyes. "The idea makes me feel sexy," I said as I rubbed my pussy over his cock. "Like when I fantasize about getting bent over your desk in your classroom, is that bad?" "You fantasize about me a lot?" he asked with a cocky grin. I sat up-right so that we were facing each other and nodded my head furiously. "Oh yeah, I dream about you fucking me, a lot." I bit my lip, trying not to start dry humping him on the spot. "When was the last time that happened?" "The first day of school... I dreamt about you fucking me so hard, sir." Mr. Christiansen lifted the hem on the front of my dress, holding a fist full just above my panty line. He used the other to start teasing my pussy through my panties. I bit my lip hard, trying to suppress any noise I was making, but it was so hot. He pushed my panties to the side so that my pussy was on display and he ran his thumb steadily over my clit as he spoke again. "Tell me everything about it," he demanded. "What was I doing that had you so hot and bothered?" I could barely think straight, let alone form a coherent sentence. I closed my eyes as I moved my hips against his thumb, still biting my lip, until he very abruptly stopped what he was doing. My eyes popped back open, pleading for attention. "Out with it, little one," he said with a knowing smile. "Or I'll just stop touching you altogether. And keep your eyes open. Now tell me about your dream." As soon as I began to speak, he returned his thumb to torturing me. "You were mad that, oohh, that you could see me practicing while you were at school over the summer, wearing just my sports bra and shorts," I shakily got out. "Yes, well, I certainly didn't appreciate you hosing yourselves down with waterbottles, you belonged on late night HBO," he said, accusingly. "What else did I do?" "You bent me over your desk and said you needed to teach me a lesson so you spanked me with a ruler." I continued, while his thumb still slowly ran over my aching clit. "That does sound like me," he mused. "And then you pushed up my skirt and pulled my panties aside, and fingered me until, fuuckk, I came all over your hand." I said, my breathing turned heavy. "You were about to fuck me, but then my alarm went off." "Such a shame," Mr. Christiansen chuckled, "I bet you'd love getting fucked while you're bent over my desk. You like being on display, don't you?" I was embarrassed, but there was no point in denying it, so I just nodded. "Look down," he instructed. "Look at me touch you." I did as I was told. Holy fuck, that's hot. If it was even a possibility, I got even more turned on watching him run his fingers over me. Then without warning, he sank two fingers completely inside of me. "Fuuckk!" we both said at the same time. Mine was more of a squeak, his was more of a growl. "This makes me hard," he growled out. "Watching my fingers slide inside your impossibly tight little cunt makes me so fucking hard." Still I kept my eyes on him now finger fucking me. "You like it, don't you?" he knowingly asked. "I can feel how turned on you are." "I love it..." I mindlessly said. "I love it too, little one. This is, bar none, the sexiest thing ever." he said, slamming his fingers inside me once again. Ohhh. I was super turned on, but not enough to where I couldn't smell bullshit. "Really?" I gave an accusing look, "out of all the things you've done in your life, this is the sexiest thing ever? Come ON." "I have a sexy little teenager sitting on my lap, who tells me it would be hot to go at it where we could get caught, and that she quite the little exhibitionist. She tells me all about how she fantasizes about me fucking her in risky places and getting punished for being naughty, all the while I'm playing with her super-fucking-tight pussy when all it would take is someone coming downstairs to see us and get in a lot of trouble." Extra Attention Ch. 02 Okay, well when you explain it like that, it IS the sexiest thing, ever. "Mr. Christiansen, I love fucking your fingers, it feels so fucking good..." I whispered in his ear. "What do you wanna do now?" He hummed. I wanna keep doing what we're doing! While I wanted to just pull his cock out of his pants fuck him right then and there, I knew realistically, that was not much of a possibility. I frantically searched my mind for an idea, and came up with the perfect one. "I'm gonna take a shower," I told him, standing up, regretfully taking his fingers out of me. "Wanna join me?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. "Fuck, yes," was his reply and then we raced to the bathroom in the bedroom at the end of the hall. Where no one would hear us. "Let's get you out of this," he murmured, unzipping the back of my dress. "Two days of you prancing around in your bikinis and sundresses has not been the easiest to ignore, little one." "Have you ignored it?" I asked teasingly, letting my hands slide up his muscular arms. He growled against my neck and let my dress fall to the floor. I whimpered, feeling his body press harder against mine. "Mine," he whispered softly, and I shivered at his words. "Only mine, Ashton... only me." My eyes closed. "Only yours," I affirmed. I felt him. His hard cock against my stomach. Then there was the magic of his fingers. Pushing my panties down before his middle finger, began to tease me once again. And his breath. Hot and ragged against my neck, his body heat, his... everything. He cupped me. My pussy, and kept teasing my slit with his middle finger. Not enough. My fingers dug into his shoulder blades. He groaned. "Ashton..." Slowly his finger entered me. I was so slick. "More," I whimpered, bucking into his hand. And I felt felt his mouth curve into a smile against my collarbone. He walked me backward, into the shower, and I grinned as I pressed my lips against his chest as he flung his t-shirt off along with his pants and boxers. Mr. Christiansen turned the water on and adjusted the temperature so it was just right, but before I could do, well, anything, he sunk to his knees before me. "Give me your legs, baby," he moaned as he was at eye level to my pussy. Threading my fingers through his hair, I obeyed and hitched a leg over his shoulder, but he meant plural. "The other one, too." My heart skipped a beat, and my mouth popped open. Was he serious? "The other one, too," he repeated, looking up at me. "I want you riding my face. I won't drop you." I gulped as I felt his large hands cover my ass, and before I knew it, my other leg was hitched over his shoulder. I was literally straddling his face as my back was supported by the wall. "Delicious," he groaned against me. Coherency -- gone. His tongue parted my no-no spot, licking me in one stroke. His eyes were closed as if he was savoring me. I moaned, feeling him suck my clit into his mouth, and it was... hot, wet, dirty, perfect. His sexy five o'clock shadow tickling, and his hands keeping a firm grip. I loved his hands. His fingers. And shit, his mouth, there wasn't much I didn't really love about him. "Fuck," he whispered. "Play with your clit for me, little one." Then... "Christ!" I gasped, bucking against him as his tongue slid down, entering me. "You like that, baby girl?" he growled. "You like it when I fuck you with my tongue?" "Yeeesss," I moaned out, feeling my eyes roll back, and my head followed. Against the wall, my head rested, and I just felt. I felt everything. His tongue entering my pussy, licking me. Slowly and so sensually he fucked me with his tongue, moaning and groaning against me, and I gave him more. It was out of my control anyway. My pussy coated his tongue, his lips, chin... Christ... magic mouth... With a shaky hand, I brought two fingers to my clit. "Damn," he mumbled. "That's it, Ashton, play with your pussy for me... Do what you're told, fuck..." Do what you're told. Do what you're told. God, yes. My breathing became even more eratic and I felt my inner walls constricting around his tongue. He noticed, too, of course, and kept up his eager pace. I panted. My legs shook. "I can feel you, little one," he moaned. "Come in my mouth. Come in my mouth and then I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you like my own personal little slut. Fuck. Everything inside me tensed. I stopped breathing and the orgasm ripped through me forcefully. I heard him growl. The sexiest sound in the history of forever. The pleasure surged through me, washing over me, pulling me under... I wasn't aware of much. Spots filled my vision and I was completely out of it. "I need to fuck you. Now," I heard him groan. I was still gone but I felt him move me, lowering my legs. I couldn't stand so I was glad that he held me up. He put my arms around his shoulders and my head fell forward, resting on his chest as he wrapped my legs around his waist... then his cock. God, right there. I needed more but wasn't sure I could handle it. "I'm going to fuck you now, little one," he moaned in my ear. "And you're gonna cum all over me again, just like a good little slut would." I shivered. Finally. That was all he needed, and he pushed himself inside me with force and speed, burying himself to the hilt. He stretched me fiercely. It was a sting that made me feel more alive. "Goddamnit!" he hissed. I wanted to speak, to scream, to just fucking die of contentment, but I couldn't move. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until he pointed it out to me. "Breathe, Ashton." I finally exhaled, and I could feel him. I let out a moan in to his neck, and I suddenly noticed I was shaking. He had to hold me up completely. I was still spent from my orgasm, my legs were damn jelly, and my mind was jumbled and all over the place. The only thing I could really focus on was the present. His cock starting to pound in to me. His intense gaze. Mouth latched onto my neck, sucking, kissing, nibbling. Moans and growls. Hands and arms holding me up... Harder. I was starting to wake up, starting to feel that urge again. The urge to cling onto him and feel more. The urge to... to... clamp down. "Christ, you're so fucking tight," he groaned. "Such a perfect little slut." My heels dug into his ass, and I realized I had my strength back. More, I needed more. Harder and deeper. Nothing was enough. I was insane because my pussy was hurting. Not much but it stung to be so fucking stretched, so... fucked. And I wanted more. Needed it. Desperately. But I could tell he was holding back. And I did not wait this long just to get some half-assed version of what it should be. "Don't hold back..." I pleaded breathlessly. "Please..." My pussy would regret it later, but at that moment I did not care. "Don't fucking beg me, Miss Gavin," he warned, stilling his movements. "I only have so much restraint." His expression was... dangerous. Eyes dark, filled with lust, consumed by it. Need. Fire. His jaw was tensed, teeth gritting together. So... I uh... Yeah, I begged some more. "Please, Mr. Christiansen," I whispered, leaning in to kiss his jaw as I clamped down on his cock that was still buried in me. "Please... fuck your slut." He went rigid. Everything around us stilled. But his cock... his cock pulsed inside me. He wanted this, too. And then he leaned in. Mouth close to my ear. Hot breath. Lips touching... as he whispered. "Don't say I didn't warn you, baby." My breathing hitched at his whisper, and slowly he pulled out of me, to which I steeled myself. Eyes locked. Mine were wide, his were fierce. He smirked. Cockily. Then... he slammed into me. I choked. I felt him everywhere. "Is this what you wanted, baby?" he gritted out. He didn't wait for an answer. Instead he started fucking me in earnest. Hard and deep. Fast. Harder. Deeper. Faster. More. It hurt... It hurt so fucking good. I clung to him, hanging on for dear life, and he fucked me. Crashing his mouth against mine, he kissed me hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth, and it was more than I had ever felt before. More than passion, more than pleasurable. This was definitely more. It was thrilling. The feelings inside me spiked and it didn't matter if it stung, I met his thrusts anyways, needing to feel it all. "You insatiable little slut," he moaned against my lips. "Begging for it as hard as you can get it. I'm the first real man to be inside you, and now I own this pussy, understand?" I felt it all. I wanted it all. The thrill, the love, the passion, the fire... the danger... and Mr. Christiansen gave it to me. Fucking finally. I felt the build-up. The intensity. His cock pounding into me. My pussy constricting around him, soaking him, sucking him in. "Yes, I understand." I said, I didn't dare to not answer him. "Cum, little one," he groaned. "Give it to me, you gorgeous little slut." I gasped. Everything tensed. He growled. I exploded. It was more. So powerful. So consuming. Every fiber of my being came alive as I came. Came hard. Constricting and convulsing, pulsing around his thick cock, and he followed, tensing and thrusting jerkily. Heat. So much heat. I couldn't breathe. Fuck. Shakily, Mr. Christiansen lowered me to stand, and I knew he was on the same page. Completely fucking spent. "Fuckin' A," he panted. I shivered and managed a small nod against his chest. Our chests heaved, the warm water washing away the sweat from our bodies. I was spent. So incredibly satisfied. I smiled. Extra Attention Ch. 03 Just a short one I've had for a while but never posted. -:- "You just couldn't wait, could you?" Mr. Christiansen glares down at me, his fingers sliding up and down my wet sex. I look up at him from my position- spread out on his desk- shaking slightly from the frustration building within me. "I'm s-sorry... I-I just oh, ohhhh..." I stutter out as he slides one of his fingers inside of me. "You need to be QUIET. Your slutty little mouth is going to get us both caught." He says in a low, harsh tone. Mr. Christiansen subsequently brings his newly wet fingers to mouth and I immediately begin sucking in earnest. I can hear the low growl he lets out, knowing my efforts are paying off. Not that this was anything new or different. Most days I'd come begging to him by lunchtime, unable to resist the constant aching between my legs any longer. There were a few moments when we'd almost been caught; and though he'll never admit it, those were the times he came the hardest. "What has you so worked up? You're particularly needy today, little one." He muses as he resumes sliding his fingers up and down my pussy. "It's Monday... You know going all weekend without you does things to me..." I hesitantly say. "Mmmm, what aren't you telling me?" he taunts. Damn, he knows me too well. "Did you touch your little pussy without my permission?" I hesitate before I finally speak. "Not exactly..." He immediately takes a fist full of my hair and brings his face to mine. "Did you let someone else touch you, Ashton? You know I don't share." He wasn't joking, he looked livid. "It's... It's... That's not how it is..." "Then you might want to tell me how it is, Ashton, before I get angry." Uh-oh, two uses of my full name in less than a minute. This is not good. "J-Jessica and I... We just got a little drunk o-on Saturday and it got out of control..." I speak slowly. The grip he has on my hair loosens slightly as a look of shock crosses his face. "Are you trying to tell me you and Jessica- my niece- fucked around?" "I-I... Yes..." I'm still unsure of his level of anger and I don't know what to do or what else to say. "Such a little fucking slut." Mr. Christiansen groans. "Tell me, little one, was she as good as I am? Did she make your sweet little cunt cum as hard as I do?" He once again starts moving his fingers up and down my slit, but I stay tense, as I'm still not sure if he's angry or not. "You're better, fuck, always better, Sir. It just felt so naughty and wrong that's what made me cum sooo fucking HARD." I moan out my last few words as his fingers pick up speed and pressure. "Kind of like being bent over your English teacher's desk?" he smoothly asks, quickly turning me on my stomach so that I'm bent over. I can't form a coherent sentence because as soon as I'm bent over his desk, he takes his cock out and starts rubbing it against me. I bite my lip to keep from crying out when he abruptly thrusts inside of me. "Tell me about it Ashton. Give me every detail of your little whorish experience." Mr. Christiansen pulls my hair back, gritting out his words. "She tasted so good, Sir. When my ass was in the air as I was licking her, my little pussy was begging for you to fuck me. Ohh God, I was thinking about you fucking me just like this..." "So are you a lesbian now, little one? You're getting so much wetter talking about her." He quietly taunts. "No, just the thought of you both at the same time... Ah, fuck..." I can feel my orgasm quickly building. "Please don't stop, oh please..." "When did this happen, slut?" His thrusts were harsh and deep. "It happened... " and then my eyes pop open as soon as it dawns on me. "Oh my God..." "Spit it out little one, or I'll stop." "It happened... it happened Friday." "Are you fucking kidding me, Ashton?" Mr. Christiansen forcefully pulls my head back by my ponytail, his thrusts becoming frantic. "I need it, Sir. Fuck me harder..." I beg, letting the sick reality of what I'd done fuel my pleasure. "Does she know?" he gritted out. "Does my niece know she ate my cum out of your slutty little hole?" Before I can help myself, my orgasm hits me. I cum harder than I ever have, tremors spread throughout my body as I desperately cling to the desk to maintain my balance. My muscles quickly give out and I collapse as Mr. Christiansen also loses himself to his orgasm, my cheek pressed against the wood grain. Mr. Christiansen regains composure faster than I do and he slowly moves both his hands up and down my back in effort to relax my shaking form. "Does she know about you and I?" he asks softly. "No," I quietly respond. "But we should probably start doing this somewhere else if we want to keep our secret." "I suppose you could come to my apartment." he casually responds. "Where do you live?" "Glastonbury, so it shouldn't be a problem." I bring myself upright and take a moment to adjust my uniform before I turn around to face him. "Cool, so... When?" "Tomorrow night?" he suggests. "That works, text me the address?" He nods in agreement and I move in to kiss him before I make my exit.