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Travie took his time packing his bag, shrugging off reassuring pats on his back from his friends as they walked past. Sighing, he shuffled his feet to the front of the class, to the teacher’s desk where Mr Beckett was holding his test paper. He shifted from foot to foot as he waited for his classmates to clear the room. Finally, when the door swung shut behind the last person, Travie looked up from scuffing his sneakers against the floor.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Travie gritted out, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. All the good food was gonna be gone by the time he was done getting his ass chewed out.
“Did you even try at all?” Mr Beckett sighed as he tossed the paper on the desk. A big red ‘F’ decorated the top of the paper, over the doodles and Travie’s name (spelled wrongly, too). “It’s your senior year, when are you going to start pulling your socks up?”
Travie couldn’t take Mr Beckett seriously with his girly long hair and fluttering eyelashes. He had a hip cocked as he leaned against the desk, arms crossed and looking at Travie expectantly. The first time Travie laid eyes on him at the start of the year, his immediate thought was that he needed to tap that.
But as the year wore on, Mr Beckett became more and more of a drag. He was one of the youngest teachers in the school and he made all the girls whisper behind his back when he walked past. Mr Beckett seemed to overcompensate for the fact that he was barely any older than his students by being strict so they would take him seriously.
It didn’t work on Travie, though. He wasn’t easily swayed. Especially not by prettyboy teachers who pouted so cutely when you didn’t follow orders.
“Nah, thinking of pulling my socks off instead. Then maybe my pants next, then my shirt, then…” Travie smirked, taking a step toward Mr Beckett at every point, until he was almost toe to toe with him. “Then you can imagine the rest, I hope?”
Mr Beckett wasn’t by any means a short man. It was just Travie hit his growth spurt late, so now everywhere he walked he towered over everyone. It didn’t help that Mr Beckett just had a small frame. He looked tiny and skinny. Like Travie could just. Manhandle him. Into any position he wanted. Travie’s dreamt it.
Mr Beckett didn’t shrink away, though. Just jutted his chin up to look right into Travie’s eyes. Travie’s heart rate spiked as they stood there in the empty classroom, staring at each other, both unwilling to back down. Travie moved closer to Mr Beckett unconsciously, until they were sharing air.
“No, I can’t imagine the rest. Care to elaborate?” Mr Beckett kept a straight face as he spoke, narrowing his eyes in challenge.
Travie chuckled, a smirk still playing on his lips. “I’m saying, there has to be a way to get some… extra credits.”
Mr Beckett broke eye contact to sweep his gaze over Travie’s body. He hummed in thought. Travie held his breath.
“You wanna pass my class?” Mr Beckett licked his lips as he loosened the tie around his neck. Travie nodded jerkily. “Lock the door.”
Travie paused and searched Mr Beckett’s eyes, making sure he wasn’t interpreting the order wrongly. Mr Beckett raised an eyebrow. Travie turned and scurried to the door to turn the lock, drawing the curtains on the window shut too, before Mr Beckett could change his mind.
When he turned back, Mr Beckett was perched on the desk, tie undone and shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His fly was open between his spread legs. He was leaning back invitingly and Travie all but tripped over his feet as he made his way back.
As soon as he fit himself between Mr Beckett’s legs, he was being pulled into a kiss. Mr Beckett’s lips were soft and sweet like strawberry chapstick. Travie opened his mouth, trying to lick into Mr Beckett’s. Mr Beckett’s hands dug into Travie’s hips, pulling him closer.
“Travis,” Mr Beckett grunted as Travie kissed down his jaw. “McCoy. Fuck me.”
Travie moaned, mouth open and wet against Mr Beckett’s throat. His hands moved to tug Mr Beckett to the edge of the desk, pushing him down until he was lying back with Travie hovering above him and his legs wrapped around Travie’s hips.
“Think you can get it up for a man?” Mr Beckett’s voice was rough. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was splayed out behind him in wild strands.
Travie’s cock pushed against his zipper impatiently. “Oh, I’m way ahead of you, sir.”
Mr Beckett made a soft pleased sound. “Yeah… yeah, call me sir from now on.”
“Of course, sir,” Travie groaned, eager to obey. He leaned down to kiss Mr Beckett again, tonguing past his lips, kissing until their teeth clashed.
His hands dragged down to pull Mr Beckett’s pants down, revealing his lack of underwear. Travie pulled away to look down and check that, yes. Mr Beckett was a total slut who came to school totally commando.
“Shit, Beck- Sir. You were expecting this or what?” Travie bit his lip. Mr Beckett smirked, teeth flashing up at Travie. Travie’s stomach was doing flips.
Mr Beckett’s cock was long but slender, curving up and pressing against his hip, hard and red at the head. Travie took him into his hand and jerked slowly, making Mr Beckett arch up into his touch. He gasped up at Travie to hurry.
Travie wanted to draw out his impatience, and the words started to spill from his lips, when he heard the fall of footsteps outside in the hallway and he immediately snapped back to reality. He needed to finish before the bell rang or get blue balled the rest of the day.
He quickly moved to undo his belt and pull his cock out, already leaking at the tip from anticipation. Mr Beckett hummed in appreciation and he got up to bend forward, spine curving, and take Travie’s cock in his mouth, wrapping those sweet lips around the head and hollowing his cheeks. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and Travie thinks this is the hottest anyone has ever looked. Ever.
Travie’s hips jolted forward, deeper into Mr Beckett’s mouth. He gripped the back of Mr Beckett’s head, tangling his fingers in the soft locks, to guide him into a rhythm that matched his shallow thrusts. Mr Beckett peered up at Travie as he swallowed more and more of his cock, eyelashes long and pinched together with tears. Travie was so fucking close already, his face contorting in a way that signalled his impending orgasm.
Mr Beckett pulled off with a wet noise and Travie was tempted to shove his face back towards his cock, but he remembered himself. Patience reaped rewards. Good things come to those who wait. Come. God, Travie really wanted to come.
Mr Beckett spat on Travie’s spit-slicked cock, pumping the length to spread his saliva. Travie pulled him in for another kiss, tasting himself on Beckett’s tongue. He’s sure Mr Beckett could feel his cock harden more in his palm.
“Your turn,” Mr Beckett breathed, hopping off the desk and nudging Travie back to make space for when he turned around and bent over, propping his hands over Travie’s failed test paper. He swayed his hips in the air and turned to look at Travie over his shoulder. “C’mon, be a good boy and get me wet with your tongue.”
Travie didn’t hesitate to drop to his knees, face-level with Beckett’s ass. He gripped the plush cheeks and spread Mr Beckett open with his thumbs. He hoped ass eating was the same as pussy eating and tried to do what his girlfriends used to like.
He licked around the rim of Mr Beckett’s hole, flicking his tongue over it before pressing in. Mr Beckett made a pleased sound of approval.
“Am I doing it right, sir?” Travie pulled back to pant against Mr Beckett’s thigh, his breath fanning out over his wet hole.
“Yes, fuck, keep going,” Mr Beckett’s voice was hoarse. “You’re doing so good. Such a good boy.”
His hand reached back to grab Travie’s head and shove him harder against his ass, making his tongue push in deeper as Travie licked until spit dribbled down his chin. Mr Beckett grinded his hips back and rode Travie’s face, moaning as Travie ate him out. Travie could barely breathe but fuck, those noises, he wanted to draw out every whimper, every gasp. He wanted to keep being good.
Mr Beckett’s legs were shaking as he struggled to hold himself up. If Travie wasn’t so preoccupied he would be smirking really smugly right then. He pulled back slightly, a line of spit following his lips, and he brought a finger up to press into Mr Beckett. He was so tight and warm.
“Try, angling it. Down,” Mr Beckett gasped.
Travie did as he was told and curved his finger downward as he fucked it in and Mr Beckett’s legs buckled, making his hand lose its grip in Travie’s hair to steady himself on both his forearms.
“Shit, right there, good–” Mr Beckett praised as he rolled his hips backward for Travie to brush against that spot over and over. Travie slipped in a second finger and began spreading him open. “Fuck, if only you were this good at–fuck–Studying.”
Travie was too caught up in the way his fingers disappeared into Mr Beckett to catch the teasing remark. He hummed and leaned forward to shove his tongue in alongside his fingers, spreading Mr Beckett wider, loosening him up for. For Travie’s cock. Suddenly Travie felt impatient again.
“Wanna fuck you now, sir,” Travie didn’t mean to sound as whiny as he did. He didn’t care though, he was already on his knees, he wouldn’t be opposed to begging. “Sir, please.”
“Yes, yes, fuck,” Mr Beckett reached back again to yank Travie up by his hair. He glanced up at the clock above the chalkboard. “Fuck, hurry, spit on it and shove it in.”
“You really know how to make a man feel wanted,” Travie grinned as pushed himself up to his feet. He slapped his aching cock against Beckett’s slick hole.
“You’re barely a man,” Mr Beckett huffed a laugh. He pressed back, trying to make the tip of Travie’s cock slide into him. Travie positioned himself, gripping the base of his cock tightly to resist blowing his load right as he pushed in.
“Does that turn you on?” Travie murmured as he spat on his cock to get it wetter. “That I’m barely a man? That I’m your student?”
And before Mr Beckett could reply, he thrusted in. They groaned in unison as Travie’s cock breached past the ring of muscle. Mr Beckett was tight but he took each inch so well.
“Sir? Does that feel good?” Travie leaned forward as he fully sheathed himself inside his teacher. His lips were pressed to the nape of Mr Beckett’s neck. “Wonder how many students just like me you’ve taken.”
Mr Beckett moaned and shook his head. A thrill rose in Travie’s belly. He started thrusting shallowly, opening Mr Beckett’s body up more and more.
“You’re such a fucking whore, bending over for your student,” Travie mouthed upwards to mutter against the shell of Beckett’s ear. “Actually, I bet everyone knows. Everyone can tell.”
Mr Beckett gasped as Travie angled to hit right against his prostate. Travie didn’t really know where he was going with his goading, but with the way Beckett was rutting his cock against the edge of the desk, he wanted to keep going.
“You like being your student’s little bitch?” Travie grunted as he began driving in harder. “Because you are, you’re my bitch. You take cock so fucking well.”
Mr Beckett groaned and pushed his hips back to match Travie’s rhythm. “Shut up, Mccoy.”
“Or what?” Travie had a shit-eating grin spread across his face. The one he had when he knew he’d won.
Mr Beckett shoved Travie back square in the chest, making his cock slip out and bob in the air. Before he could stumble back, Mr Beckett gripped his arm and pulled him down onto the chair behind the desk. He grunted at the impact as he landed back heavily. Mr Beckett stepped out of his pants and climbed up to straddle Travie’s lap in one swift motion.
“Anyone ever told you you’re bad at fucking?” Mr Beckett tossed his hair behind his shoulders. Travie wanted to snarl but Mr Beckett started kissing him, then he had a hand around his cock, holding him in position and then Mr Beckett was sinking down.
Travie could only hold Beckett’s waist and brace for the ride.
Mr Beckett had his hands creeped up under Travie’s shirt as he bounced and rolled his hips, squeezing around Travie as he sunk down. Travie was the one making noise, now. Cursing and moaning and chanting sir, please, fuck. I’m gonna die.
“Always so talkative,” Mr Beckett bit at Travie’s bottom lip, pulling it with his teeth. “This is why you’re failing my class. What do you have to say?”
“‘M sorry,” Travie panted as he chased Mr Beckett’s lips. Mr Beckett raised an eyebrow, holding Travie’s head back by his hair, pulling it taut against his scalp. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Mr Beckett smirked and murmured a praise as he smashed his mouth against Travie’s. Travie was so fucking close. He was about to empty his balls right into Mr Beckett.
“Sir, I’m so close,” Travie spluttered. “Wanna cum inside you, please. Can I? I’ve been good, right–?”
A rattle from the classroom door handle caught Travie mid-sentence. His words caught in his throat, stopping any intake of breath. Beckett froze his movements and Travie could feel his nails dig into the skin at the back of his neck.
There were murmurs from right outside and Travie was trying to stay completely still, to keep from stimulating his cock still buried inside his teacher. Mr Beckett shushed him quietly, eyes watching the door, at the shadows under the gap. They were completely silent, save for the roaring of blood and pounding in Travie’s ears.
“Ugh, let’s just get it later,” A girl groaned from behind the door. There was a bit of commotion before finally, finally there was the sound of footsteps walking away from the classroom.
Mr Beckett cupped Travie’s face to tilt his head away from looking at the door. He kissed Travie slowly, pulling out the tension rattled in Travie’s bones, melting his muscles until he kissed back in kind.
“Scared?” Beckett teased as he began grinding on Travie’s cock again.
“Hey, I’m not the one out of a job if we get caught,” Travie replied, grunting as Beckett started moving his hips up and down.
“Shh, keep your voice down,” Mr Beckett clapped Travie’s mouth with a hand.
Travie’s heart jumped. “Whuh? You hear someone else?”
“No, just wanted you to shut up,” Beckett pulled his hand away, smirking at Travie’s widened eyes.
Travie cursed at him and slapped an asscheek. Beckett laughed and shushed him again. Travie responded by snapping his hips up roughly. They quickly settled back to a frantic rhythm. Travie humped up desperately to match Mr Beckett’s fervorous bouncing. His fingers pressed into Beckett’s pale skin, intent on leaving bruises. His cock felt impossibly harder at the reminder that they could get caught at any moment. It made him kind of light-headed.
“You close?” Mr Beckett huffed, voice breathy. Travie panted back, kissing him. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Travie groaned and Beckett squeezed around his cock, rolling his hips and rubbing his hands down Travie’s sides. “C’mon, come for me like a good boy. C’mon, do it. Be good for me, fuck–”
Travie bit Beckett’s shoulder as he tipped over the edge, pulling Mr Beckett down flush against his crotch and coming buried deep inside. Mr Beckett moaned as he let go too, the muscles in his ass spasming around Travie’s cock as he rode through his orgasm. He laid kisses down Travie’s throat as they both came down.
“Sir,” Travie broke the silence of their panting breaths. Mr Beckett pulled back to look at Travie’s face. He was still seated on his softening cock. He tilted his head in question. “You stained my shirt.”
Mr Beckett looked down and giggled at the streaks of white tracking up Travie’s dorky Space Jam t-shirt. He patted Travie’s cheek and kissed his nose in apology.
“I’ll treat you to ice cream after school, how about that?” Mr Beckett grinned as he climbed out of Travie’s lap, unfolding his spindly legs from where they were tucked into the armrests. “You have your gym clothes right?”
Travie hummed as Beckett turned his back and started pulling his pants back on, over the droplets of come starting to leak down his thighs. The sight made Travie’s dick twitch in interest but he tucked himself back in before his little guy could get any ideas.
“And about my extra–” Travie was cut off by the bell ringing and Mr Beckett gasped.
“I have to rush to my next class,” he hurried past Travie, but not without a kiss to his cheek first. “I’ll email!”
Travie watched as Mr Beckett left in a flurry of brown hair and an unzipped fly.