Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1178662.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Dawson's_Creek
  Relationship:
      Tamara_Jacobs/Pacey_Witter
  Series:
      Part 3 of Close_to_Me
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-11 Words: 2670
****** Loose Talk in the Classroom ******
by romanticalgirl
Notes
     Originally posted 7/14/02
"Yeah?" Pacey glanced up as his father answered the phone then turned his
attention back to his book. He'd been trying to work his way through The_Great
Gatsby all day and was having no luck, despite Doug's enthusiastic review and
the fact that the wind and rain storm raging outside left him no other
alternatives. "Yeah, he's here. Hang on. Pacey."
He looked up again, warily this time as his father faced him. "Yes, sir?"
"It's one of your teachers on the phone. She says that you were supposed to
come in after class for tutoring."
He'd waited in her classroom for an hour, scared and horny and jumping at every
sound. She hadn't shown up. "She wasn't there. I waited."
"Yeah, she's apologizing. Had a faculty meeting. Wants to know if you can come
in now. She's asking nicely, I say you get your ass on your bike and try and
learn something for a change."
"I'll drop him off." Doug offered as he walked into the room, polishing off a
glass of milk. "I've got to head to the station anyway. Besides, this way we
can make sure he actually goes, instead of ending up at Dawson's house, trying
to drag his friends down with him."
Pacey shoved his books into this backpack wordlessly, not bothering to argue.
He watched his father turn back to the phone, talking into it. It was easy to
ignore the words, the put-downs, the insults. All he had to do was imagine her
voice, low and sultry, asking for him on the phone.
Wanting him.
He carried his backpack in his hands as he followed Doug out to the car,
grabbing his jacket along the way. He sat silently as his brother cursed the
weather, the wipers on full, the heater blasting. He could feel the blood
pounding through his body as sharp memories of the ruins flashed through his
mind.
"So you're screwing up in English, huh?" Doug smirked as he pulled out of the
driveway. "I'm almost surprised, given that you and your friends talk like
you've got something worth saying."
"It's not enough to actually be impressed that I'm going for tutoring, is it,
Doug? I mean, it doesn't show that I'm trying not to mess this up or anything,
it just illustrates to you that I can't get it right the first time, doesn't
it?" He sighed and turned toward the window. "Thanks for your unending support,
big brother."
"Whatever, Pace." Doug pulled up to the school and waited impatiently as Pacey
picked his backpack up from the floor. "Just try not to waste too much of the
poor woman's time."
Pacey smirked and slid out of the car, ducking the rain as he ran for the
school. He flung open the door and stepped inside the cool emptiness and walked
through the deserted hallways, the after hours lights glowing yellow against
the waxy shine of the floors.
He took a deep breath when he reached the English room door, staring into the
darkened window. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside then closed it
quietly behind him.
"Miss Jacobs?"
The shade on the window slid down, dropping the room into deeper darkness. He
turned slowly, letting his book bag drop to the floor.
"Miss Jacobs?"
"Pacey," she whispered his name as her hands slid up his chest, pushing his
jacket off his shoulders, off his body. Her lips found his, her tongue pushing
past them as they parted. One hand found the nape of his neck as the other slid
down his arm.
They broke apart, gasping for breath before crashing into each other again. He
captured her tongue, sucking on it as her hand moved down, her palm smoothing
over his cock. She pulled away from him, her hand still moving as she nibbled
his lower lip. Pacey shuddered, his breath halting. His hands shook as he
wrapped them around her upper arms, forcing some distance between them.
She leaned into him, kissing again, all tongues and lips and heat as he groaned
and lifted her, holding her body to his. They fell back against the wall, the
muffling sound of the bulletin board echoing in the quiet room, wrapping around
the soft moan she muttered into his mouth.
"How long?"
"Seven hours since I saw you," he breathed, his lips not leaving hers, the
words disappearing into her mouth.
"No."
"Two days," the words were filled with the pain of 48 hours of longing. He
lowered her back to the ground, framing her face with his hands as he kissed
her, needing the taste of her on his tongue. "Two long days."
She nodded, her fingers on his shirt, unbuttoning it with feverish haste.
Pacey's lips moved along the column of her neck, licking and sucking the softly
powdered skin. Tamara's hand shook as she pulled his shirt free of his pants,
her hands moving around his bare waist to find the muscles of his back. Her
breasts pressed against his chest, scraping against the smooth skin as she bent
her head, moving away from the heated intoxication of his lips, her mouth
covering the flat tips of his nipples.
"Oh…" Pacey sucked in air as she flicked her tongue over his nipple, letting
one of her hands snake under the waistband at the back of his jeans while the
other moved around, this time squeezing the hard flesh of his cock lightly.
Pacey pushed her away, fighting to breathe. His eyes had adjusted to the dark,
seeing her now as she stood across from him, her chest rising and falling
rapidly with every breath. She looked almost exactly as she had when he'd sat
three desks back today, staring at her body as she'd talked about literature,
hearing nothing but the way she'd moaned his name when he'd slid inside her.
As he stood there, she lifted her hands to her blouse, slowly beginning to
unbutton it. Material parted, fabric fell away and her flesh appeared, creamy
white in the darkness. He licked his lips and swallowed as she unzipped her
skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
"Oh..." The garter belt was black, the lacy tops of her stockings feathering
over her skin. She pulled her shirt apart, and he whimpered, the black bra
barely there. "Oh…fuck." His voice cracked and he could feel the hot blush
suffuse his skin.
She moved forward and rested her hand above his heart, feeling the rushed
beating beneath her fingertips. The silk of her shirt fluttered around her
upper thighs as she stepped closer, her hands at his belt buckle, unfastening
it easily. "It's not your first time this time, Pacey."
He shook his head, swallowing again as she slid his zipper down, pushing his
jeans over his hips. He took a step back as she advanced, wondering absently
where all the air in the room had gone. Her hands curled around the elastic of
his boxers, easing them over his cock. He stilled as her thumb moved over the
swollen head, coating it with the thick moisture that leaked from the tip.
Her hand curved around his shaft and slid along its length before she pulled it
away, her body inches from his. She placed one finger on the tip then slowly
let it run down his cock, her nail pressing lightly against the pulsing vein
just beneath his skin.
Pacey gasped and stepped back, stumbling on the loose material of his jeans.
Tamara grabbed for him and they went down together, Pacey wincing as his head
smacked into a desk before hitting the ground. "Ow."
"Pacey?" She straddled him, her hands cradling his head. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." He nodded and winced, trying to smile up at her. "When you said this
was dangerous, I didn't realize you meant physically."
She laughed softly, and shook her head. "Next time, I'll…"
"Next time?" His eyebrow shot up and he slid his arms along her back, pulling
her down on top of him. She gasped quietly as he rolled them over, pinning her
beneath him. "What about right now?"
"We…I didn't think that you'd…"
His hand slid between her legs and found the damp material of her panties, the
black material soaked through. "Were you thinking about me all day?" He asked
the question softly, the words lacking the assurance of machismo, his voice
cracking on the words. "Is that why you're so wet?"
"I spent my entire faculty meeting thinking about the way you feel," she kissed
him, her lips barely brushing his. "Thinking about the feel of you inside me."
The sound that escaped Pacey's lips was tortured as he pulled away from her,
his fingers moving to her hips and grasping the fabric of her panties, sliding
them down easily. Her shirt and her hair were fanned out around her body, the
black of her lingerie standing out starkly against her skin.
Tamara shivered as he stared at her, his eyes molten in the slight golden light
that filtered in through the shade. He didn't move for a long moment, just
staring at her hungrily. She moved slightly, her body reacting to the heat of
his gaze. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." His voice dropped, thick and deep, surprising her. "I just…I want to
taste you."
Getting to her feet, she smiled down at him, the white satin of her shirt
shimmering, ghostlike. She walked toward her desk and held out her hand to him.
"Then come here and taste me, Pacey."
He moved slowly, weaving through the desks to hers, walking around to where she
stood behind it. He faced her, his back to the chalkboard as his hands skimmed
her sides. She moaned softly as he lifted her up on the desk then moved between
her parted legs, his hands cupping her breasts through the lacy fabric of her
bra. His thumbs brushed her nipples lightly, his eyes holding hers hotly until
he bent his head, his mouth replacing one of his thumbs.
She trailed her fingertips over the back of his neck, feeling him shudder as
his tongue slipped under the lacy fabric and found her nipple, wetting the
tight peak. His hands moved up her sides, caressing her pale skin until he
reached the dark lace of her bra. Pulling away slowly, he moved his hands to
the center of it and eased the clasp open.
His hands captured her breasts as the material parted, smoothing his fingers
and hands over the creamy flesh, the nipples hard against his palms. He kissed
her softly then pulled away, sinking down into her chair as her body strained
forward toward him.
Silently, he pressed his palms to her knees and spread them apart, inhaling the
sweet scent of her arousal. He moved in slowly, closing his eyes as he brushed
soft kisses against her inner thighs, the silky skin gliding across his lips.
He paused, taking deep breaths of thick air as he sat before her, her hands
resting lightly on his shoulders. "I've never done this before," he whispered,
surprised as she moaned softly, his warm breath coursing over her sensitive
skin.
"I know," she gasped, nodding above him.
"Will you tell me what to do?" His lips were brushing her labia, his tongue
tracing the swollen flesh.
"You're doing…fine," she assured him, still nodding, her fingers digging into
his flesh. Pacey's tongue continued exploring, tracing the damp, downy hairs
against the swollen skin. "Pacey…" Her hands moved along his neck, into the
short, dark hair.
He pulled away slightly, the fine traces of light glinting on the pink tip of
his tongue as he licked his lips, tasting her, his eyes locked on hers. "Yes,
Miss Jacobs?"
Her fingers applied light pressure, urging him back to the persistent throb
between her legs. He smiled knowingly as he went willingly between her thighs,
parting flesh again, this time allowing his tongue to slip deeper, coating it
with her arousal as he slid it inside her.
"Yes," she moaned softly, nodding, her fingers massaging his head, holding him
against her. He slid his hands along the underside of her thighs, caressing the
pale skin, fingers playing with the lace edge of her thigh highs as he swept
his tongue upward, finding her clit. "Oh! Yes."
Pacey growled low in his throat, the sound heavy in the quiet room. His tongue
flickered over the hard nub, her whole body moving with every harsh breath. He
moved his hands up, holding her more securely, his fingers dimpling the skin of
her ass, the lace of the garter belts rough against his palms.
Tamara leaned back, her hands curled over the back edge of the desk, her silky
shirt falling to her sides, her breasts pointed up toward the low, gridded
ceiling. Pacey's tongue swept over her clit again and again, long, lazy licks
that shuddered through her.
Her soft sounds of pleasure rocketed through Pacey, his cock straining, pressed
hard and flat against his stomach. He could feel the desk shaking along with
her body, her hands gripping it so hard it trembled with every new press of his
tongue. Her breath slipped out of her in quick, low pants echoing with the
sound of his name.
Moving his hand slowly, he caressed the underside of her thigh before using two
fingers to part her warm, rosy flesh. They rested against her opening, tracing
the slick skin before he pressed them in to the first knuckle, pressing down
lightly before pulling them out. Tamara gasped above him and he repeated the
gesture, this time coupling it with the hard pressure of his tongue on her
clit.
"Oh, Pacey." She moaned his name as he thrust again, deeper this time, to the
second knuckle, leaving his tongue against her clit, no longer teasing it. Her
breath shortened as his hand kept moving, fingers filling her this time, faster
and harder as he freed his other hand, letting it rest on top of her thigh as
he lowered his thumb, letting it move over her clit as his tongue snaked down
to chase after the rivulets of liquid painting her skin.
Tamara's body moved with his thrusts, her hips rolling forward. His tongue
slipped over her skin, tasting her, tracing the subtle contours of her body,
his tongue wet from her arousal. Small sounds of satisfaction murmured up
through her skin as his tongue found her clit again, matching the steady
thrusts of his hand.
She shivered, feeling her control start to slip away. She fell back on the desk
as her hands trembled and gave out, her head bent backwards over the edge as
she raised her feet onto the desk, spreading her legs wider for him.
Pacey groaned and moved impossibly closer, his tongue raking over her clit as
his fingers pushed deeper. He was overwhelmed by the scent of her, the heady
inhalation of sex and desire, the liquid taste that flooded his hand and tongue
as she gasped once more, her body stilling as she came.
His tongue moved against her skin, slipping inside her, brushing over every
surface as he listened to her whimper above him, her body still shaking
slightly. Finally, he pulled away, brushing the back of his hand across his
mouth. "Are you okay?"
His whispered words filled the room, silent except for the harsh sound of
breathing. The air smelled heavy and thick around him as he reached forward,
his wet fingers brushing her thigh tentatively.
"Ta…Tamara?"
"I'm…fine, Pacey." She pulled herself back into a sitting position and sighed,
shaking her head. "More than fine." He backed his chair up as she slipped off
the desk, kneeling between his spread legs, her hand stroking over his cock.
"So I…uh…" She could see his blush even in the weak light. "Passed my first
oral exam?"
Trying not to smile, she leaned in, kissing him softly. "With flying colors,
Mr. Witter."
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