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dad of the year

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He's going to hell.

"oh, dad- d- dad! Your cock feels so good~"

Breathy words- sweet, teasing, warm against his skin- get his throat tightening and Aizawa's fingers dig deep into your arching hips, his teeth grit as you whimper in his ear- pleated school skirt slipping down and over his hands, hiding away the shameful display of a student grinding on her sensei's cock.

Another whine of dad and Aizawa is near snarling, near shaking as his cock fucking throbs deep into your snug little cunt.

He shouldn't be getting off to this. He shouldn't be allowing this to happen.

And yet he doesn't stop you from slowly grinding on his cock. He doesn't stop you from kissing him- hands clinging to his shirt, stomach flexing whenever his own push under yours to tweak at your nipples, bite nails along your spine.

He doesn't stop you. He doesn't scold you.

He doesn't have the right to when he's the one that started it.

"sensei, you're such a dad sometimes! Loosen up!"

"I'm not a dad-"

"-oh, you so are-"

"-but I wouldn't mind it if it meant you were my little girl"

Stupid. So fucking stupid. He's never, ever said something so idiotic. He's never, ever crossed that boundary.

But he's been a teacher for so long and there have been so many pretty little things trying to break him over the years.

It's been so long and he's so weak, so tired.

He could have never resisted your doe eyes and teasing flirts, your pouting lips and the cute little panties he's gotten too many sneak peeks at for it to be accident. He could have never resisted the way you come to him for advice, how you talk to him so honestly- so shy and insecure, but so honest- and look at him as if he holds all the answers to all the questions in the universe in his back pocket.

He could have never resisted the way you stayed after class and the way you had fiddled with your skirt, how you had oh so shyly looked up at him through your lashes and murmured to him, told him-

"you really are like a dad to me, you know? Would you- would you really want me to be your little girl?"

He couldn't resist you. No one could resist you.

A whimper and you're squeezing his dick like a vice. A whine and you're burying your face into the crook of his neck, panting and moaning softly as you swirl your hips and rock your hips forward, back.

"Nn- nn! Fuck, d- dad! Feels so good- i- I'm gunna- oh, fuck! Please, dad- please! I need- I need-"

You whine, words fracturing, and Aizawa grits his teeth to hide a groan as he forces your hips still, fucks up deep into your puffy, silken little cunt. You let out something like a babble as he fucks you- all nonsense, nothing but infantile gibberish that has something guttural snarling in his chest.

"D-dad- fuck, god- dad, please- I want-"

Aizawa groans, finally, to the sweet tune of your pleading and he buries his hand into your hair, kisses your hair with a shudder as your pussy tightens and spasms and creams all over his cock.

"Shit- fuck. That's a good little girl."

Darling sniffles sound to the words Aizawa doesn't bother registering. He holds you tighter, closer and then he's humping up into your fucked out cunt, he's grinding his cock deep into your pussy and grunting as his balls sting with each wet slap that rings against your soft ass. He's fucking you and you're trembling against him and all he can do is squeeze his eyes shut and pant as he forces you to ride his cock, as he grips your hips and tilts his head back with a strained growl whenever you sob out a needy dad, whenever you cum weakly and push him past his brink.

Aizawa cums and you moan, arch- mouth falling open and nails clawing into his shoulders as his hot cum spills into his favorite student's cunt, his little girl's pussy.

Regret tries to flood through him- it really does. It's not quite allowed to crop up, though, with the way you sigh sweetly against him, the way your thighs tremble, the way you squeeze around his cock and mumble about how you're "so full, dad."

Aizawa swallows, shades of shame licking at him, and he rubs your back, stares out at the empty, mocking desks filling the classroom. There's a little heart scribbled on the seat of your chair and Aizawa wants to sit you on it, badly- sit you on it and eat out your little pussy, savor the feeling of pulled hair and the sound of your filthy, sweet whines.

...he's a terrible teacher.

But maybe he can be a good dad to you.