"This is not like you Jackson. You usually keep a decent grade in chemistry all year, but now, huh. I don't think I can accept this new standard of yours."
Mr. Harris's eyebrows twitched provocatively as he sneered, his hand letting go of the latest exam papers. They flopped down on the desk, a red C- glaring at him, still visible in the darkening classroom. Jackson tensed, jaws clenching with frustration of his inadequacy and he averted his eyes with a soft hiss of disgust.
“I’ll do better by the next test, it’s just a minor setback. I’ve let lacrosse training take over my time again.” Empty words were all he could offer, he knew he couldn’t explain any of the things he’d been going through, and it wasn’t by far over. He’d work harder as usual, not that it really mattered, nothing ever came out of it anyway.
His eyes flicked over to the figure of his teacher, leaning against the desk by the blackboard, hands in his pockets as he studied him right back, the other man’s eyes intense and glinting in the dim light of the desk lamp. He bit his lip and looked away again, fuck; this was the wrong time to get held back after class.
He could feel his body getting warmer at the thought of- no; he snapped his mind back to reality and adjusted his bag over his shoulder. It was one thing to have fantasies about your teachers at home in private but another to have them right in front of said teacher where any reactions could be noticed.
Mr. Harris adjusted his glasses and patted down his perfectly groomed hair. "You know what I dislike Jackson?"
The light reflecting from his teacher’s glasses hit his eyes and he shifted to his other foot to avoid the glare.
"No, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me?" Jackson sighed as he gripped his pack firmly.
Mr. Harris huffed a small chuckle, "Heh, I've always liked you, you remind me a bit of myself a few years ago, so full of attitude and confidence."
He pushed away from the desk and took a step closer. Jackson's gaze flickered from Mr. Harris face down past his crotch where he paused momentarily, down to his feet and back up, locking firmly with his teacher's eyes.
Mr. Harris wasn't a bad looking man, not at all, and the fact he was still in his twenties and not an old geezer instantly doubled Jackson's fascination of him.
"Yeah?" he fired back, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
"I dislike distracted teenagers in my class, Whittemore."
The edge in Mr. Harris's voice pulled Jackson's attention back to the present, his palms clammed up and he could feel how his heartbeat quickened and how his breath got shallow and fast. Shit, was he trying to rile him up intentionally? He frowned and swallowed the influx of saliva in his mouth.
"What, like Stilinski? I-"
"I'm not talking about Stilinski, Whittemore."
Mr. Harris’s face was suddenly inches from his own, hot breath fanning over his nose and mouth, he could feel sweat pearling at his temples and how hot blood went south, slowly filling his dick. Fuck, he really needed to get out of there now if he wanted to avoid Mr. Harris noticing his growing erection.
"I think you and I need to sit down and have a little discussion about distractions Whittemore,"
Mr. Harris was impossibly close, crowding in on his space like he owned it. Jackson stood still, eyes intense and narrowed as he flicked the tip of his tongue across his lip.
"In what state will you find Methane in at 296 Kelvin?"
Mr. Harris was close enough he could feel the body heat emitting from him, his light blue shirt barely touching the sweater over his stomach. He gulped and focused on the question.
"Erh, that's room temperature so it would be gas, sir," he said around the thickness in his throat caused by his growing arousal.
Mr. Harris smirked, his eyes dropping down to take in the wet fullness of Jackson's bottom lip.
He nudged a thigh closer to Jackson's crotch which Jackson instinctively shied away from to hide his erection pressing up against the fly of his jeans, which only resulted in Mr. Harris curling a hand around his shoulder and the back of his neck and moving in those last few millimeters which had separated them. Jackson could feel his cheeks heat up, his cock pressed up against his hot teacher's thigh, that hand on his shoulder digging its blunt nails into his muscle.
Jackson could only stare with heavy eyelids, mouth falling open with a small grunt as Mr. Harris's other hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb catching the corner of his mouth. The fingers splayed out across his jaw and tilted his head back, his tongue darting forward to give the tip of the thumb a quick taste.
"Look at you, distracted already," Mr. Harris smirked and nudged Jackson's hard dick with his thigh. Jackson bit back a moan, determined to regain control over his rampant mind and body, and stared defiantly at the teacher. He licked his lips and his mouth twitched into a smirk.
"Next question... Sir."
The hand ripping his shoulder dropped down to his arm and gripped hard; with a quick twist he was pushed forward those precious few feet to the desk and he let go of his bag automatically to brace himself against the edge, hindering his fall face first against a stapler. He sucked in a breath in surprise as he was bent forward, a hand on his hip guiding his pelvis back.
A warm hand moved in under the front of his sweater and rubbed gently at his abdomen, making his muscles twitch. He could feel the warm presence of Harris at his back, edging closer as he played with the skin above the lining of his jeans. A hesitant groan escaped him as Harris's other hand sneaked up along his back, over his neck and the back of his head, grasping the slightly longer hair from the top and pulled back, angling his face upwards.
"Tell me the alkane series, from a single carbon to twenty," Harris whispered in his ear, a hard bulge pressing into the crack of his ass.
"Don't forget the formula," he added as he brushed a fingertip along the border of his underwear, nose innocently nudging at the back of his ear.
"Oh fuck, Methane, C1H4," Jackson breathed, voice catching a bit in the beginning.
The fingers slipped under the lining and scratched at his happy trail and down towards his pubes.
He gasped and continued, "Ethane, C2H6."
The hand dropped down to the base of his dick and long fingers wrapped around him and squeezed firmly. Jackson groaned throatily, his breath coming out in harsh puffs.
He blinked open his eyes, he hadn't even noticed he'd closed them in the first place, his cock pulsating with need for release and his ass grinding back against the obvious erection of his chemistry teacher, making anything but the hand on his cock unimportant. This was really taking "favorite subject" to a whole new level.
"Propane, C3H8." The air rushed out of his lungs as the hand holding back his head suddenly let go and snaked its way up underneath his sweater to flick a finger over a pert nipple, the hand grasping his cock ever so slowly moving its way up to just beneath the head, holding tight enough to make Jackson squirm, but not in discomfort or pain.
He could feel Harris's warm breath closing in on the back of his neck, fanning out as his mouth came closer, making the fine hair stick up in goose bumps. He breathed for a few seconds, dick twitching in Harris's hand, as he gathered himself.
The hand on his chest continued to play with his nipple, rubbing over it in circles, scratching it with the blunt edge of a nail and pinching it hard enough to make his body twitch and stiffen.
"Uhhg, Butane, ah- C4H10."
Something wet and warm flickered over his earlobe, and he groaned as a warm mouth closed over it and sucked, teeth biting into the soft flesh.
"Mm, good, open your jeans and continue."
Harris's voice was deep and husky with arousal. His wet lips mouthing at his neck as Jackson shakily moved one hand to his pants, touching his crotch where he could feel his teacher's hand move over his cock, one finger brushing against the frenulum. He pressed against his hand wantonly, spreading his legs to feel the bulging erection dig deeper into the crack of his ass.
He swiftly popped the button open and pulled down the zipper and started pushing his jeans down eagerly only to be stopped by the hand previously playing with his nipple. He moaned in protest because fuck, he wanted to get off now damnit. A pause in the workings of the hand on his dick made him look down and frown. A chuckle tickled his ear and the hand grew lax on his cock.
"Oh my, aren't you eager?" Harris crooned softly, squeezing at the base of his cock again.
"But aren't you forgetting something?"
Harris's other hand moved to his hip and pushed down his jeans. Jackson shuddered and flexed his ass cheeks, fucking finally.
"This is not acceptable Jackson, not acceptable at all," he purred in his ear, shoving the jeans further down his thighs and pulling out his hand from his underwear to pull them down to in one quick move.
Jackson could feel a hand pressing down on his back and he obediently lowered himself, sticking his ass out with a breathy moan.
"No, this will not do," Harris breathed against the back of his neck, nipping the skin below his hairline.
Jackson wiggled his ass around a bit, nudging against his teacher's bulge. The skin pimpled with goose bumps in the chilly room and from the hand which was slowly dragging its nails over the skin of his back and flanks down to his hip, making him arch back and grind his flushed cock against the other.
He whimpered as the hand let go of his dick and moved back to his ass where they spread his cheeks wide, thumbs moving up and down the crack and brushing over the rim of his asshole. He could hear Harris harkle a bit and then jumped as he could feel spit hit him wetly just over his hole, his muscles spasming with surprise.
Harris chuckled fondly and rubbed a finger against the wetness, spreading it out in circles, every now and then running across his entrance teasingly.
"I won't fuck you if that's what you're after," Harris voice rang deep in his stomach making it clench with want and he groaned in disappointment.
Fuck, he messed up, fuck, fuck, fuck. His cheeks flushed with shame and he lowered his head down to the desk and rested it against his forearms as he breathed deeply through his nose. His dick wilted a bit with his disappointment.
"I'll punish your easily distracted mind by letting you fuck yourself on my fingers, or maybe my tongue. You need to learn to manage on your own when you screw up, Jackson, isn't that what your father tells you when he fails to come to yet another lacrosse match?"
He dropped his fingers down to his perineum, moving in circles across the soft skin there before dragging one up through the crack to rest against his asshole, nudging the tip inside millimeter after millimeter. Jackson whimpered at the intrusion, feeling how achingly slowly it entered him, filling him up.
He wanted more, fuck he'd been fantasizing about this for weeks and now he was here, practically half naked with his ass being probed by a delicious finger digging deeper inside him. The shame of failing burned on his cheeks but his jaws clenched in anger at the mention of his father. The fuck was Harris thinking bringing that up? He was just about to turn around and call quits when Mr. Harris long digit curled inside him and pressed down against what was unmistakably his prostrate.
"Fuck,” he moaned as the finger nudged at his prostrate, the movement sending tingles down his legs and through his dick. He sucked in a breath as another finger breached him, stretching him wider.
"You're getting a little dry there, Jackson," Harris whispered huskily and moved away, biting and licking his way down his back where the sweater had been pushed up. “And you shouldn’t put so much weight on your father’s actions Jackson, he continued, “after all, you will realize one day he’s only a man. A man you can surpass.”
Jackson whined as he felt the tip of a moist tongue lick at the top of his crack, alternating between swift little licks with the tip and long slow swipes of it flattened against his skin. He arched and tensed his back, moving his ass back to get more of that fucking awesome tongue on him.
Shit, he'd never expected this would happen at all. He'd imagined a quick hand job or him sucking Harris off from under the desk, his personal favorite that one; this was pretty much beyond his imagination.
Harris spread his cheeks wider apart with one hand, the other slowly rubbing in and out of him, fingers already getting dry. Harris’s nose tickled the hairs of his groin as he moved down and breathed deeply in and out, practically inhaling the musky scent of Jackson’s balls. His mouth continued to nip and lick in the crease where his ass cheek met his thigh, taking one long swipe up to his balls.
"Touch yourself, I know you want to," Harris purred from where he was licking at Jackson's balls and perineum.
Jackson let out a sigh in relief, sure he could practically come from the attention shown to his ass but that would probably take way too long and he was rock hard and wanted to come now. He leaned on his left arm and reached down with his right, feeling the head of his dick, wet and sticky from precome slowly dribbling out from the slit. He brought his hand back up, gave it a few good licks and a good spit before reaching down and grabbing his dick firmly, groaning as he slowly dragged his hand up to his head, just like Harris had done before.
The pressure was fucking delicious and the fingers moving slowly in his ass just added to his excitement. He whelped as Harris suddenly and roughly dragged the tip of his tongue from behind his balls up through his crack to play along the rim where his asshole clenched and twitched around where the two fingers were pushed in to the last joints.
The fingers pulled out bit by bit as the tongue pressed deeper, flicking in and out to lick around the rim and then to press deeper, making his hole wet with saliva. Jackson groaned and moved his hand faster over his dick, desperate for release. He could feel the pressure of his oncoming orgasm building in his groin, Harris fucking his ass with his tongue while keeping his hole open with his fingers.
His balls tensed up and his hand gripped harder over his dick, twisting around his head on the upstroke. He moved his hips, meeting the jerks of his hand and trying to basically impale himself on the wiggling tongue of his teacher.
Without warning Harris pulled his fingers from his ass, shoved his tongue as deep inside him as he could and gnawed gently at the sensitive skin around the rim with his teeth, fucking his ass with that-, that tongue. Jackson couldn't focus on anything but his hand on his dick and that impossible tongue up his ass. Sliding and curling its way inside him, making slow circles as it thrust in and out.
He could hear the slurping sounds his teacher was making, saliva dribbling from his mouth and down to trickle over his balls, shit; he could feel his asshole squeezing and clamping down around the slippery slick of the long tongue fucking him mercilessly. Surely Harris must be getting one hell of a jaw ache right now but he still kept on going, sucking and nibbling at the opening, moving one hand down to cup his balls, and Jackson couldn't hold it any more.
Groaning with every inward thrust of Harris's tongue, Jackson moaned as he jerked his hand hard and fast over his dick, the drying saliva giving the most delicious friction. With one bite and a slurp as Harris' sucked around his asshole, flicking the tip around inside him, he came, letting out soft whines as he rubbed his ass back on Harris’s tongue and squeezed out spurt after spurt of come which dribbled over his fingers and down on the floor. His knees went weak in the aftermath, thighs trembling with exertion.
A pat on his naked ass jerked him out of his post coital bliss-out, Jackson leaning on his arms and feeling his heartbeat slow down and his breathing calm and how those orgasmic tingles sparked up here and there in his body, making his muscle relax with contentment. He jerked up, suddenly aware of Mr. Harris presence, and roughly pulled up his jeans and underwear, tucking his softening dick back into his boxers with a muted hiss.
A flush crept up over his neck and cheeks, his gaze dropping to avoid that of his teacher who adjusted his glasses while wiping his mouth on a napkin, a smirk edging his face and a glint in his eyes as he studied him back.
"As I said, I really dislike distracted students in my classroom and I do believe we should discuss this further next week."
Jackson glanced up in surprise, as slow stirring of excitement in his stomach attempting a belly flop with want as he locked eyes with Harris.
"Eh, same place next week?" he braved, voice cracking a bit with overuse and nervousness.
"I do believe so, Jackson, if not earlier, this is a new low for even you and I'm sad to see such a talented student go to waste."
Jackson could really have done without the condescending tone at the end, but the promise of a good fuck really was too good to pass up. Tightly coiled anger flared up within him and he took a threatening step forward.
"Don't expect me to grovel at your feet, Sir," he bit out, voice dripping with scorn.
"Oh, you'll be at my feet all right Jackson, not to grovel maybe, but because you like it," Harris smirked in the dim classroom, the light from the lamp glinting in his eyes, reflecting the pupils wide with desire.
Jackson clenched his jaws and turned to leave, picking up his pack from the floor where it had fallen and straightened up.
"Oh, and Jackson?"
He turned around to glower at Harris again.
"Do try harder on your alkanes next time. I'd hate to keep our session so short." With a small huff of a chuckle he turned back to his desk, effectively dismissing Jackson who fumed in silence.
Seeing no point in sticking around to argue the fact he had a finger in his ass at the time and that usually makes one a bit distracted, he turned and left at a swift and efficient pace, grumbling under his breath about fucking asshole teachers demanding everything and nothing.