Spoil her!

You treat her as a lover would, passionately making out with your teacher in her office. One of her hands cranes around to grasp you by the neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. Soon enough, your tongues are coiling around each other savagely, her long suppressed urges bursting out all at once. Glynda writhes and squirms in her chair, her blouse becoming unbearably hot. You decide to give her a moment to drink in these feelings of hers and break the kiss, leaving your professor panting for breath, her emerald eyes half-lidded and peering up at you from behind fogging spectacles.

"I'll admit I was a bit selfish with Yang," you explain as you circle around in front of her. "Even though I brought her to multiple climaxes, I still acted in my own self-interests."

"Oh my..." Glynda whispers as you kneel down in front of her.

"This time however..." you say as your hands slide up her pantyhose clad legs. "Everything I do is entirely for your benefit."

She shudders beneath your touch as your hands slide up underneath her pencil skirt, dragging it up with them inch by torturous inch. Ever so slightly, her legs part to give you easier access, her mind caught in a lusty haze but the level of eroticism you were inducing was trying even on your own willpower. Those nylons... those knee-high, heeled leather boots... and her scent... what in the world was that perfume she was wearing? It was driving your own libido mad, your cock straining in your pants, but you keep your urges in check for now.

You ride her skirt up to her waist, the stiff fabrics bundling up at her midriff and your eyes gaze upon her nylon and panty-clad womanhood. Her undergarments were a deep purple in color with just a bit of lace along the edges, and were showing a growing wet patch of arousal. You reach forward and gently trace the outline of her cameltoe with your fingers, causing the respected woman to jump in her seat. You peer up at Glynda from between her legs, a smirk on your face.

"Teach me how to please you, Professor," you breathe huskily onto her crotch, your eyes never breaking contact with hers.

"I-I couldn't possibly... OH!"

Her protests are cut off as you run your tongue along the length of her pussy. You could taste her juices through her panties and nylons. Her dry spell must've been longer than you thought. Her squirming becomes more violent the longer you continue your lapping, her legs shuddering on your shoulders and her hands squeezing both the armrests of her chair and your scalp in a **** grip, her perfectly manicured nails raking through your hair.

"Stop... stop..." she wheezes and you look up to her questioningly. "Let me take off my... my..."

She reaches down to the hem of her pantyhose and for a moment, you're inclined to let her strip for you, but then a wicked thought enters your mind. You remember from the show that she would often use her Semblance Telekinesis to fix whatever damage her students had caused to her campus. Would she do the same for clothing? Would she even be bothered to care when you were done with her? You stop her hands and this time it's her turn to be confused. That confusion was soon replaced with shock as you reach forward and tear a hole in her nylons, giving you clear access to the warm face of her panties.

"You brute!" she gasps out. "I thought you said this was for my benefit?"

"It still is," you reassure her. "I can tell this is turning you on like no tomorrow, but I'm still under your instruction. I want you to teach me how to make you feel good."

She keened wantonly as you reminded her of the entire premise of you pleasing her. You wanted her to teach you how to make her cum, and now she couldn't deny that she wanted to teach you. Blushing like a newlywed bride, she reaches down and spreads her thighs apart.

"Pull the panties to the side," she whimpers as she passed the point of no return.

You do as she asks and shift aside the now soaked satin, her wet and ready womanhood exposed to you. Pink, glistening flesh winks up at you, her muscles already pulsing. She kept herself tidy with not a single hair out of place, but other than these trimmings, she was all natural. The scent filled your nostrils and you felt your head grow dizzy. This was different from Yang. This was the scent of a full grown woman, and the aroma of her sex was absolutely intoxicating. Your mouth watered in anticipation, your tongue aching to get a taste of those folds so obscenely displayed for you, but you stood your ground and waited for her instructions.

"Gently now... trace your tongue along my... labia majora..."

You look up at her feigning innocence.

"What are those, Professor?"

"Oh spirits..." she shudders at your question. "My... my outer... pussy lips."

Smiling at how you coaxed her into saying a slang over the medical terminology, you do as asked and run your tongue over those delicate petals. A low groan rises out of Glynda's throat as you lap up her juices that spilled out of her, but the more you drank the more she seemed to leak. It didn't matter to you; she tasted of honey and you couldn't get enough.

"Now stick... ah! stick your tongue... against my vaginal opening," she continued. "Don't penetrate though. Just lick and... p-prod."

She was warming up to you and quickly. You sensually drink directly from her source, her cries growing louder by the second.

"Don't... oh spirits! Don't leave... your hands idle Mr. AH!"

You lightly pinch her thigh at her slip up.

"Michael don't... " she corrects herself with a shudder. "Don't forget about your hands... caress me, feel me, make me feel like a wanted woman."

"Where do you want my hands, Professor?" you ask her.

"My thighs, my legs, my... my butt... oh you're a fast learner!" she groans as you let your tongue lap across her pussy fully. "That's it, keep going!"

She's moaning openly now, her hips gyrating against your face as she finally lets herself relax completely. You make a silent wish for the room to be soundproof. You didn't want any nosey nobodies poking their heads in when you had Glynda coming apart on your face.

"Oh spirits Michael! You're making me... making me~!"

"Making you what, Professor? Are you going to cum?" you ask between licks.

"Oh my goodness, yes!" she cries out. "So much... so long! I... I can't... hold it anymore!"

"Then don't."

"Oh Michael! My clit! Lick my clit! Suckle it, nibble it, rub it, squeeze it, anything!" she begged and pleaded with you, completely lost to pleasure.

You do one even better. As your lips wrap around her swollen clit, you take one of your hands and jam a pair of fingers into her clenching pussy. Glynda shrieks at the sudden penetration and wraps her legs tightly around your head. A cascade of her juices sprays out and onto your waiting tongue, the fruits of your labors now free for you to enjoy. Just as you begin to grow lightheaded, she let's her legs fall limp, releasing you from her grasp, your face and chin glistening with her juices. She pants heavily and stares down at you, your once prim and proper teacher sliding slack in her chair, her spectacles askew on the bridge of her nose and her sweat matted hair coming loose from her bun.

"Do I pass, Professor Goodwitch?" you ask innocently.

"Oh spirits Michael... yes. A+ with flying colors," she answers between breaths. "With this assignment anyway..."

"This assignment?" you repeat, your cock twitching in anticipation.