9 comments/ 30118 views/ 6 favorites Lessons that Last Ch. 01 By: lilmissj95 Author's note: All characters in this story are 18 years or older. All high school students are seniors and at least 18 years old. Comments, criticisms, compliments and questions all welcome via the CONTACT tab on my profile. This is my first story. I am looking for an editor for future chapters, so please let me know if you are interested. Write what you know. Chapter 1 Matt watched as the bead of sweat slid down her slender neck, its contoured path emphasizing the taut muscles and delicate hollows. As the bead dripped over her collarbone, Matt found himself leaning even further forward on his desk, waiting for the drop to begin its descent down her chest and into the inviting valley below. The bead hung there for what seemed like minutes, pulsing in Matt's intense gaze. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry, trapped in the moment. The ceiling fan above him pulsed rhythmically with the bead hugging her pale skin, but did little to diminish the damp heat in the classroom. Doof. Doof. Doof. The fan echoed a crude heartbeat. As those minutes ticked on, the drop began its tortuous journey down her chest, climbing the exposed top of her full, heavy breasts. Matt heard a long, deep breath hiss quietly out of his mouth as he admired the perfect details of this glimpse: the glassy bead of sweat trailing over, and magnifying for an instant, a single, tiny freckle. Matt's eyelids shuttered as if in slow motion, erasing the view in the same moment that the bead connected with the neckline of her tight, yellow top. Matt stared, the shiny trail of the now-vanished bead still visible down her neck and chest. Cough. Matt's attention snapped up, drawn immediately to the piercing gaze of two liquid green eyes; of her liquid green eyes, to be precise. Caught. Fuck, thought Matt. He averted his eyes quickly, staring out the window at the school's manicured lawns. Fuck, he thought again. And by Justine Harris, as well. Could anything be worse? Zzzzziiiinng. His panic barely had time to get off the ground before the end-of-day bell sliced through his senses, snapping the spell that had been suffocating the humid classroom. Matt turned his attention back to his class, already half out of their chairs and scrambling for the door, as he tried to regain his composure. "I hope you've all finished reading The Sun Almost Rises," Matt yelled above the clatter of desks and chairs. "I'm testing you all tomorrow in preparation for your essay next week. Term's almost over, so no excuses anymore!" Matt watched as his class scuttled out the door, some nodding their heads, others rolling their eyes, most not even registering his words. As the last dregs of students crowded out the exit, Matt noticed a slim figure leaning against the doorframe: blue cut-off shorts and a yellow top. "You really shouldn't stare," said Justine, an amused half-smile curling her small, pink mouth. "It's rude. And what am I supposed to think? Is there something wrong with me, Mr Hamilton?" Justine's smile turned into a small pout, and her sharp, green eyes took on a sulky droop. Matt heard the last couple of students giggle as they disappeared out of sight. "Or maybe there's something right with me?" Justine intoned slowly, her tongue rolling across each word slowly. "Something you'd like, but can't have?" Breath rushed from Matt's lungs to his mouth, but nothing came out. Justine wiggled her hips just barely. Matt didn't have time to recover, as Justine stepped quickly around the doorframe and out of the room. He had time only to watch Justine's hips sashay around the corner, her ass accentuated by the tight denim of her shorts. And then he was staring at open space. Fuck, Matt thought ineloquently again, his feelings split evenly between a rising sense of humiliation and his student's cute, little ass. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. *** Later that afternoon, Matt slid himself under the barbell at the gym, resting his back against the dull comfort of the bench, prepping himself for another set. As he positioned his hands on the bar, wiggling around to get comfortable, he felt a wave of anger flood over him. It was one of the many that had surged through him on his way from his class to his office to the school gym, gradually replacing his feelings of humiliation. He'd just been humiliated by a high school senior. Worse yet, she'd done it in front of some of the other students. And worse again, she was one of his students. Matt grounded his feet firmly against the floor, arching his back, and unhooked the barbell from its supports. As he lowered the weight to his chest, his thoughts drifted to Justine's ass, something that she'd teased him with on more than one occasion. In fact, Matt was fairly sure she'd teased just about every guy at school with it. Taking a deep breath, Matt pushed up firmly, his control fluid as he raised and lowered the barbell in slow, deliberate reps. What a bitch, Matt brooded, his anger fuelling his reps. Justine had been losing pens in front of him all year, bending over, arching her ass, sticking her chest out, and making it clear that she wanted to be noticed. And, now, the one time that he forgot his self-control and had an absentminded perv, she took the opportunity to embarrass him. Matt Hamilton, an all-American player who was not long out of college, felt like he'd just been whipped. And by a high school senior of all people! What he wouldn't give to teach Justine a lesson. Matt imagined placing his hand on Justine's upper back, arching her slender body over his desk, hands splayed awkwardly across its surface, her breathing quickening. He'd lean over her, brushing his lips against her ear. "Something I can't have, huh?" he'd whisper, sliding his hand into her shorts and cupping her ass. Justine would stand there, face blank, pretending that she wasn't enjoying it, her heaving chest the only give away. Sliding a finger into the crack of her ass, Matt would gently trace the tip up and down, applying just the slightest pressure to her hole with each pass. Dropping her gaze with a sudden sigh, a pink blush spreading across her face, Justine would let out the softest moan. And then Matt would know it was all over for Justine's teasing. Matt could feel his cock thickening with each rep and each passing thought, growing down the leg of his baggy gym shorts. Matt grunted, his solid chest and ropey triceps straining against the weights. The more he focused on Justine, though, the easier the set seemed to get. Matt thought about relaxing the pressure on Justine's back and sliding a hand around her chest, cupping one of her round, heavy breasts and massaging it through the thin material of her yellow top. Her nipple would be visible, painfully hard. Focusing on that thought, Matt just about threw the barbell as he pushed it up. Lurching, as if pulled by the barbell itself, Matt struggled to pull the weight down and into its support. Sitting up, he stared down at his arms, suspicious of how much easier those last few reps had felt. What the hell? Flexing his delts, Matt felt a small tingle running through them. His arms didn't look any different, but they sure felt different. As he sat there pondering his new-found strength, Matt noticed a flash of colour out of the corner of his eye. Distracted, he noticed the cheer squad bouncing around in the stadium, their late afternoon training session visible through the glass wall of the gym. Sitting there on edge of the bench, Matt had a perfect view of his fantasy. He picked her out quickly from the line-up of nubile, young students, their backs facing him as they stretched. Justine's straight, waist-length brown hair gave her away. Matt's cock jumped as she bent over, wrapping her hands around her ankles, her skirt riding up, just barely covering her ass. The school's cheerleading coach, Gina Sanderson, walked out, barking orders. A notorious bitch, Matt could never work out how Gina got any results from her squad. Matt watched as Justine sprang back up, bouncing from toe to toe, her eyes trained eagerly on her coach. The change, from the insolent alpha woman she had been in his class to enthusiastic student was clear to Matt even from this distance. As Justine rocked from her side to side, awaiting final instructions, her breasts bounced generously, up and down, up and down. Matt licked his lips. Then, with her coach finished bellowing instructions and insults, Justine obediently fell into line with her fellow cheerleaders. Without first realizing it, Matt felt excitement bubble up inside him for the first time that afternoon, a grin spreading across his face. Maybe that was it. Maybe Justine just needed a firmer hand. Matt figured he probably could, probably should, teach Justine a lesson. He was her teacher, after all. She was a terrible student and she'd been distracting her male classmates, and more than a few of the girls if he was honest, for a while now. Maybe this was the moment for an intervention. Picking up his towel, Matt decided to skip the showers, grabbed his bag from his locker and headed home. He had lesson planning to do. *** Scanning the rows of desks, Matt smiled to himself. There, in the very center of the second row, was a very empty chair with only ten seconds on the clock until it needed to be occupied. Of course, no one was ever sitting at that desk when Matt's senior English Literature class started. Because Justine was never on time. Zzzzziiiinng. Still smiling, Matt stood and raised his well-tabbed copy of Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises above his head. Surveying his chattering, distracted class, he brought the small book down onto his desk with a thunderous clap. The incessant background noise ceased as every student turned their wide eyes to the front. Opening his book, and holding it above his head again, Matt paced out from behind his desk and along the first row of students. "We've been studying Hemingway's classic for a whole term now, yet some days I'm not even sure if any of you have read it," Matt intoned firmly, the faintest hint of a threat coloring his words. "Today, we're going to find out whether I'm right." Running a finger along the top of the desk in front of him, Matt turned square on to face his class. "Tamsin." A ruddy-faced girl at the back of the room, all teeth and no mouth, looked up, a startled expression in her eyes. "Tamsin, what does Hemingway's protagonist, Jake, do for a living?" asked Matt, a nervous silence still hanging over the room. "What's his vocation?" "Uh... he's a..." Tamsin squirmed in her chair. "He's a jour... a journalist, Mr Hamilton?" Tamsin finally replied, half question, half answer. "He is indeed, Tamsin. Very good," said Matt. "Now we know that at least one member of the class has skimmed at least ten pages of the book. Great news." Turning to pace back down the front row, Matt heard a sharp crack behind him as the classroom door swung open. He turned, watching Justine walking casually toward her desk, her perfect hair and even more perfect tits, bouncing slowly. Today, she was wearing a green, mid-thigh dress, belted at the waist, emphasizing her long, slender legs. Perfect, mused Matt. As she approached her desk, Justine began to slow, the unusual silence in the room apparent to her, along with the wide-eyed expressions of her classmates. Slouching quickly into her chair, Justine bent down and fumbled to pull her book out of her bag, confused by what was happening in the normally relaxed class. The toes of two black shoes poked into Justine's view next to her bag. Peering upwards, Justine found herself looking directly into the unamused gaze of her teacher, Mr Hamilton. And, flicking her eyes down a little, she realized her face was inches away from his crotch. "You really shouldn't be late to class, Justine," Matt said, smiling down at Justine as she looked up at him again. "It's rude. And what am I supposed to think? That there's something wrong with my class?" Justine didn't move, recognizing those words as her own, paralyzed by the same tension that had settled over the class minutes before she had arrived. Justine tried to look away from Matt, but found her eyes awkwardly focused on his crotch again. This close, Justine thought she could make out just the slightest bulge in her teacher's pressed, gray suit pants, running for an impossible number of inches down his thigh. This time, it was Justine who absentmindedly licked her lips. "Sit up, Justine." Justine complied, unsnapping her body from the awkward half-squat, and leaning back into her chair, trying to put as much space between herself and her teacher. Matt turned and walked back to the front of the classroom. "So, we know something about our protagonist now," Matt said, back to his class. "But, you'll need to know more than that to get through your exams. So, can someone tell me who Jake, and, for that matter, just about every male character in the book, is in love with?" The silence in the room pulsed in time with the ceiling fans, the heat settling uncomfortably on every student. Justine felt a bead of sweat run down her neck. No one answered. "Justine?" Justine stiffened in her seat, feeling the uncomfortable heat in the room more than ever. "Sorry, sir?" she asked. "We're doing a pop quiz on our book for this term, Justine," Matt said, turning back to his class, waving the book above his head. "Have you read it? Or did you think cheerleading would pay a six figure salary one day?" "I... uh... well..." A hushed wave of giggling ran through the class as the students watched the Queen Bee squirming in her seat. Justine felt a hot blush spread across her cheeks, her usual confidence replaced by tongue-tied embarrassment. "I'll repeat the question for you, Justine. It's really very simple," Matt said. "Who is Jake in love with?" Even as Justine tried to focus, she felt the bead of sweat run down over her collarbone. She found her attention drawn again to her teacher's crotch, and even from this distance, thought she could make out a tell-tale bulge in his trousers. What the hell is wrong with me? Justine wondered angrily, shaking her head. "Rattling around for some brains, Justine?" Matt asked. Justine felt the bead of sweat now rolling quietly down her upper chest, as more snickers skittled across the class. "Lady... Lady Brett Ashley," Justine replied croakily, pausing to wet her mouth. "Very good!" Matt said, clapping the book down on his desk. "That gets us about another ten pages into the book." Justine let out a sigh of relief, failing to notice the gleam of triumph that flickered across Matt's eyes as he watched a drop of sweat disappear into the exposed material of her dark, red bra. History repeats itself. Or does it? Justine was struggling already and Matt had barely put any pressure on. "And what is Lady Ashley's job, Justine? What does she do?" Justine paused, feeling the flush spreading across her upper chest. "Uh... I don't think she does anything," Justine replied, a little more confident this time. Matt narrowed his eyes, leaning back on his desk, admiring the speckled, red blush that was blossoming over his student's chest. "Well, actually, there's the suggestion that she's done quite a few things in her life," Matt said, as a few of the better-read students snickered. "Quite a few of the characters is probably a better way of putting it." Matt let the snickering die down before continuing. "Would you say that's all Hemingway suggested Lady Ashley was interested in doing?" Matt asked. "Only interested in sexually manipulating the men around her?" Matt spoke those last words slowly, his tongue rolling over each one, his eyes locked on Justine's. Justine could feel the implication, but she found herself lost for words. "Which character does she infamously seduce at the end of the story?" Matt pressed, barely pausing to allow Justine to answer his previous questions. More silence throbbed through the classroom, matching the heightened throb of Justine's own heart. She could feel the heat pressing in, and on the spot, under the pressure, she felt suddenly alive. She was without an answer, terribly embarrassed, but also somewhat breathless. What is happening? she asked herself, confused by her fluttering heart. It's just a fucking pop quiz. "Uh. I don't know," Justine finally replied lamely. "You don't know?" Matt questioned, shaking his head in disappointment. "Not a great answer in an exam, Justine. Not a great answer. I hope cheerleading works out for you." More snickers. Justine put her head in her hands, finally breaking the connection with her teacher, a feeling of disbelief setting over the top of her racing heart. Only 24 hours earlier, she had been in charge of this situation. As Matt continued on with the class, he surreptitiously surveyed his number one target. Justine stayed hunched over, staring intently at her desk, but still with that unmistakable pink flush painted all over her upper body. No matter how many minutes or questions went by, every time he looked back at Justine, she had that unmistakable pink on her pale face and chest. Justine was lost in thought and deeply confused. She was used to being in control, being at the top of this high school food chain. Yet, she'd enjoyed being pushed around in front of her classmates, even somewhat humiliated. Zzzzziiiinng. Justine quickly threw her book into her bag and made a graceless dash for the door. "Justine, you'll stay behind," came the firm command from the front of the class. "The rest of you are dismissed." Justine froze, shifting her weight from foot to foot, before finally plastering her sweetest smile on her face and turning to face her teacher, her classmates streaming around her and out the door. Pushing against the tide, Justine made her way grudgingly to the desk at the front of the room, her teacher now sitting behind it, scribbling deliberately into his diary. At first, she waited patiently, but after a couple of minutes of his scribbling, Justine found her foot tapping impatiently against the tiled floor, the noise echoing around the empty classroom. Internally, Matt smirked, writing particularly detailed instructions into tomorrow's lesson plan. The longer Justine waited, the better. Finally, after several more minutes, Matt sighed, put his pen down, closed his book and looked up at Justine. "You've been late to just about every class this whole year," he said, his voice serious. "Why do you think that's acceptable for you and not anyone else?" Justine was caught off guard, but reinforced her sweet smile, feigning ignorance. "I hadn't even realized, Mr Hamilton," she said. "I get so busy with my prefect work, cheer training and the social club that I guess I'm sometimes late to class, but I'm sure it's not all the time." "It is all the time," Matt replied firmly, gesturing with his hand at the desk behind Justine. "Take a seat, please." Matt stood up, walking around his desk, but Justine didn't budge. She stared at him, her eyes hard and daring. "Take a seat, please," Matt repeated, his voice deeper this time. A shiver ran up Justine's spine as Matt's words rumbled over her. The dynamic had changed, and she found herself taking a step backwards towards the seat Matt had indicated. What the fuck is wrong with me? Like fuck I'm going to be pushed around by my dweeby English Lit teacher, she chided herself. Lessons that Last Ch. 01 Facing Matt, Justine sidled up against the front of his desk, bracing herself against it as she pulled herself up to full height, pushing her chest out. "It doesn't sound like there's much to discuss here, Mr Hamilton," Justine said defiantly. "And I have to be at cheer practice in a couple of minutes." "No, you have to be in detention with me in a couple of minutes," said Matt. "I've already spoken to Ms Sanderson about it. I told her that you haven't been taking my classes seriously, which isn't far from the truth, is it?" Justine's eyes flicked up to meet Matt's. Getting no response, Matt continued. "She completely understands. You can't stay on the squad if your grades start to fall, after all." Leaning on the student desk behind him, Matt shifted his body forward slightly, his hands open in front of him, a sincere smile on his face. "Justine, I want to help you here. I want you to get more out of our classes." Matt paused. "I want to put more respect into our relationship." A red-hot anger rose up within Justine, thinking of so many retorts. How this wasn't the way to do that, holding her back after school, pulling her out of training, talking down to her. As she chewed those thoughts over in her head, though, Justine found herself noticing Matt's calm, open stance; the broad, squared-off shoulders; the genuine, and kind of cute, smile; the tantalizing bulge in his... Justine blinked and quickly looked away, realizing that she had been staring at her teacher's crotch again. She tried to refocus, but it was like the anger had been knocked out of her. Justine didn't know what to say. She stared into Matt's eyes, mindlessly fidgeting with a stray tress of hair hanging over her shoulder. Matt rolled his eyes in mock disbelief, letting out a bit of a chuckle. "So, is that all this is about?" he asked, shaking his head a little. "Look, it's not..." Justine began, but Matt cut her off. "It's fine, really," said Matt calmly, his deep voice rolling over Justine. "There's really no need for excuses. You caught me yesterday. Today, I caught you. Don't worry. It's natural to look." "And you might like what you see, anyway," Matt finished. Justine found her eyes drawn back toward her teacher, and this time they lingered. As if for the first time, Justine found herself appraising Matt's figure. She noticed his shoulders, broad from years of college football, and the way they tapered down to his thin waist, honed in the gym and the pool. Justine also noticed his deep, blue eyes and how they... With unexpected ferocity, a wave of heat surged up Justine's body, a breathless gasp escaping her lips. Knocked forward, Justine rested one hand on her thigh, half propping herself up. What was that? Justine thought, and even as the wave passed, she registered a warm tingle in her belly. A shadow passed over Justine's lap, and as she looked up, she found herself staring again into Matt's concerned blue eyes, their faces suddenly uncomfortably close. "Justine, what's wrong?" Matt asked gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Can I help?" Before she had a chance to think about it, another wave came over Justine, only this time she pushed herself off the desk and pressed her lips against Matt's. Taken aback by the sudden contact, Matt hovered for a second, muscle memory kicking in, his lips returning her advances. With every ounce of self-control he had, Matt placed a hand either side of Justine's shoulders and pushed back, levering her off him. "What the fuck, Justine?" Matt growled, an angry furrow etched deep in his forehead. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Justine's eyes opened wide as she searched around for an answer, momentarily unable to believe what she'd just done. "I... uh..." she whispered, scrambling for an answer, an excuse, anything. As she stood there, her mind casting around in a confused fog, Justine closed her eyes. In the darkness, she felt the warm tingling in her belly beating anew, spreading down and down and down. What is happening to me? she thought. Justine felt a hand press against her waist and, opening her eyes, found herself almost pressed against Matt's solid, muscular chest. His other hand cupped her chin, firmly pushing her head up until she met his blue eyes again. "Don't worry about what's happening," he said simply. "Just let me help you with it." This time, Matt pressed his mouth against Justine's, his lips massaging her own. Justine let out a moan, opening her jaw just slightly, letting Matt gently slide his tongue into her mouth. Justine's eyes opened wide in disbelief as she registered the tip of her teacher's tongue pressing sensually against her own. She slid her hands up, ready to lever him off, but a tremor shuddered through her body, an electric shock issuing from deep in her belly, and she found her hands back on the edge of the desk, gripping hard. Matt caressed Justine's smooth curves, his hands running over her illicit body, settling on that cute ass he had admired for so long. Finally, he was here. He squeezed her cheeks through the thin material of her dress, rolling them in his fingers. Breaking their embrace for a second time, Matt stepped back, carefully prizing Justine's mouth from his own, still keeping one hand on her ass. A smug, cock-sure smile spread across his face as he looked down at Justine, her body visibly trembling. Justine could barely think around the tiny tremors racking her body as she stared up at the new-found object of her lust. Justine was crazy horny. There was no way of denying it. She just didn't know why. "I knew you wanted it," Matt growled, running his other hand up her thigh and underneath her dress. He could feel the heat radiating from her mound already. Justine bit her bottom lip as she felt Matt's hand creeping higher, dragging his nails teasingly across the soft flesh of her inner thigh as she leaned back further onto his desk. "Do you want this?" Matt asked, leaning into Justine again and pressing his lips roughly against hers, not waiting for an answer. Justine pressed back fiercely against the kiss, pushing her tongue deep into Matt's mouth over and over. "Do you want this?" Matt asked again, more insistently this time, breaking their kiss, and pressing the tips of his fingers against the thin material of her panties. Matt's already stiff cock hardened further in his pants as he felt a slimy wetness spread across his fingertips. Justine let out a small whimper, the fog of confusion still rolling through her head as she considered her teacher's question. Want what? What want? Justine was caught between her sudden, intense desire and her need for control. Want...? Oh... Another, stronger bolt of lust shot through Justine as she felt Matt's thick fingers pressing against the damp patch on her panties. Her body fell back onto the desk, propping herself up on her elbows, as she craned her neck to look directly at her teacher. Matt's smile broadened as Justine fell backwards, and he took the opportunity to slide her dress further up her body, hoisting it under ass. Looking down, Matt had the perfect view. Justine's panties hugged her creamy thighs, the red threads crosshatched into a fine mesh through which her bare pussy was just visible. Her faint, pink rosebud sat just an inch below the waistband, opening out into her long, bloated lips that were pressed obscenely against the tight fabric. How often I've fantasized about this, Matt thought. And the reality is so much better. Getting down on his knees between Justine's legs, Matt licked his lips as he watched the thin mesh fabric rubbing over Justine's wet pussy. "Please, Mr Hamilton?" Justine moaned, not entirely sure what she was asking for, but wiggling her hips impatiently, nonetheless. Matt's breath caught in his throat as he watched a small teardrop of Justine's juices collect at the very base of her pussy, seeping through her panties and hanging languidly over his desk. "Please, what?" he asked, staring intently at the small drop. Justine pushed herself further up onto her arms, struggling to see her teacher as he leaned in closer to her pussy. How this had happened, she wasn't sure, but that just didn't seem to matter right now. Another shock of pleasure bolted up Justine's spine, and her legs jerked wildly. "Oh. Please... please eat my pussy," Justine groaned as the pleasure subsided. "Please eat my pussy, Sir," Matt said commandingly, hooking his fingers into Justine's waistband and wiggling her panties down. He placed them very deliberately down on the desk next to Justine's writhing body, before turning his attention back to her wet, glistening pussy. "God, I should have known you'd be a crazy, little slut," Matt said, a little maliciously. Justine's eyes glazed over, Matt's deep voice drilling into her head and a feeling of victory settling over her as she felt him remove her panties. Matt began to kiss up and down Justine's inner thighs, careful not to brush up against her now exposed pussy. He bit deep into the soft flesh, alternating between his lips and his teeth, building her expectations. "Oh, fuck! Please eat my pussy, Mr Hamilton," Justine whimpered, crossing her legs around Matt's head, pulling him closer. The smell of Justine's honey wafted over Matt, the hairs on the back of his neck pricking up with excitement as her pungent muskiness filled his nostrils. He could never get over the smell of a girl on heat: neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but irresistible, nonetheless. Her pussy was completely shaved, lips deliciously bloated, desperately ready for him. "Whatever you want, Justine," Matt said and, gripping her thighs in either hand, he pressed in. Matt ran the tip of his tongue delicately along the full length of Justine's lips, just barely spreading them, letting her lips communicate vibrations of pleasure to her clit. Justine moaned, the confused fog gradually receding out of her mind entirely as she finally felt Matt's flesh connect with her own. Running his tongue back and forth, Matt dipped the tip in slightly further each time, until he had finally pushed Justine's lips aside entirely, exposing her throbbing tunnel. Matt's cock was itself throbbing, aching to be freed from his briefs as the engorged head leaked pre-cum. But, he ignored it. There would be plenty of time for that later. Justine began to grind her pussy against Matt's tongue, trying to graze her clit against it. Matt grinned and leaned in closer, pressing his nose against her lips and taking a deep breath, smelling her wetness and frustration. Sliding a hand down, he rubbed his cock through his pants, smacking his lips loudly and licking Justine's wetness from them. As he looked closer at Justine's pussy, he could see tiny contractions rippling over her the exposed flesh, her pink lips stretching open momentarily, exposing her tiny, distending hole, and then suddenly closing again. "Fuck! You have a perfect pussy, Justine," Matt cooed, pushing one of Justine's legs up and back with one hand, which pulled her pussy lips back further, giving him a proper view of her clenching hole. Justine mumbled something incoherently as Matt admired her pussy, impatiently snaking her hand down over her tummy, only to have it swatted away by Matt. "Na, ah," Matt said, before delicately inserting just the very tip of his own finger into her slick tunnel. Matt could immediately feel the suction on his skin as Justine's pussy greedily tried to suck even more of his finger into her. Matt had never felt anything like this before. Only too happy to oblige, Matt sank his finger into the knuckle and then, without much of a pause, to the very base. A long, low moan escaped Justine's lips as she felt Matt's finger slide into her, and then just as suddenly, curve up against the roof of her pussy and pull back out again. Painfully slowly, over and over, Matt buried his finger into Justine, hooked it up and then slid it back out again. Leaning in, Matt pressed his tongue against Justine's clit, flicking it skilfully each time he pumped his finger out of her pussy. Justine's moaning quickly devolved into breathy grunts, placing her hands on the back of Matt's head and pushing her hips up against his face. Matt built a steady rhythm around each forceful thrust of Justine's hips. Grind. Stroke. Lick. Grind. Stroke. Lick. Deep in her abdomen, Justine could feel something stirring. The hot tingle just behind her pussy was throbbing now, throbbing in time with Matt's ministrations. A dull, almost painful, clenching that pushed the tingling up into her chest and out through her legs. Grind. Stroke. Lick. Grind. Stroke. Lick. Matt could feel an extra sensation now around his finger, and against his tongue. The soft, pink flesh of Justine's pussy was trembling, and her spasms were coming faster and stronger. Matt's mouth broadened into an impossible grin as he continued licking her clit. She was close. Justine craned her head up, just able to make out the top of Matt's head as it bobbed back and forth in time with his licking. A pained grimace spread across her red face, screwing up her eyes, her breasts heaving with each desperate pant, her brain turning to mush. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck." Justine chanted rhythmically. Matt picked up the pace now, feverishly lapping at her clit as he rubbed his finger firmly over her g-spot. "Oh fuuuuck. I'm gonna cuuuuum," Justine howled, her legs thrashing out, almost knocking Matt to the side. Grasping her thighs firmer, and holding her down against the desk, Matt jammed his finger deep inside, flicking his tongue across Justine's clit at a crazed pace. Justine could feel a hot shiver spread out across her body, radiating out from her pussy, her muscles clenching and unclenching uncontrollably. The shivering turned into shaking, which in turn gave way to spasms that rocked her whole body. She could hardly believe it, but her teacher was about to give her the most intense orgasm of her life. A long, low moan escaped her lips. "Oooooooooh... Mr Haaaamiltooooooon." Justine caught a glimpse of Matt eagerly eating out her pussy, and with that image seared in her brain, began thrashing against the desk. Throughout, Matt continued to assault her clit and her g-spot, urging her on, deeper and deeper into orgasm. "Oh my God, Mr Hamilton, you are... fuck... you are..." Justine squealed, tensing her body up completely, hanging as if in suspended animation for seconds. Her body quaked and her squeal became a strangled groaning, her pussy clamping down on Matt's finger. Finally, Justine collapsed, her legs splayed awkwardly over Matt's shoulders, deep, shuddering breaths punctuating the newly minted silence in the classroom. Matt sat back, wiping a hand across his mouth, satisfied with his handiwork. Standing up, he leant back, admiring the sweaty, teenage body sprawled across his desk. He reached over and picked up the red panties that were half-crumpled under Justine's thigh. Slowly, Justine came to, blinking rapidly to clear the black spots from her vision. The first thing to register was her English teacher's face, a smug smile plastered across his face. The second was the wet mess between her legs. Sitting up, Justine pursed her lips together, completely confused. She had just had the greatest orgasm of her life. But, how the hell had she ended up having it on her teacher's desk in detention? Matt put out a hand, which Justine hesitantly accepted, worried and confused about what this all meant. Straightening her skirt, Justine stepped away from the desk, turning as she watched Matt walk back around and sit behind it. Justine noticed the red flash of material hanging loosely in his hand, and remembered that she wasn't wearing any panties. She couldn't work out why she was embarrassed about that, as an even deeper blush spread across her face. "Can I... uh..." Justine murmured, her eyes gesturing towards her panties. Matt looked at his hand, and then back to Justine, before opening his desk drawer and dropping the panties inside it. "No, I don't think so," Matt said. "I'll be keeping them. But, you can go now if you want. I think detention's over." Justine stood there for several seconds, staring at her teacher with an expression of shock on her face. Matt met her stare, raising his eyebrows, daring her to challenge him. Finally, Justine turned, her head numb, lost for what else to do. Picking up her bag, she headed for the door, taking one last glance back before walking out. Matt leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath, the strong smell of Justine's pussy still fresh in the classroom. Not a bad start, he thought, a smug grin spreading across his face.