On his desk

“Can you stay after class after some tutoring?” asks Mr. Willingston.
“Uh yes sir.” You answer.
“I’ve been watching you.” He tells you.
“What do you mean?” you question him.
“The way you look at me. The way your eyes sparkle. How your eyebrows perk up when you look at my… cock.” He tells you in his deep sexy voice.
“I.. oh god.. I don’t know what you are-“
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He interrupts.
“I… I…” you begin to stutter trying to come up with an explanation for yourself. Just then he walks over to you, as a reflex you back away, even though you want this as much as he seems to. You hit the wall, put your hands behind your butt and watch him as he corners you. He raises one arm and puts it over you onto the wall; his body is almost touching yours. You look into his bright blue eyes and think to yourself, “Is this happening?” just as you complete that thought, he plants a soft kiss onto your lips. You give in immediately and kiss him right back. “This is so wrong” you think to yourself, “But it feels so right!” You take your hands from behind you and run your fingers through his hair. He puts his free hand on your waist. In the mist of the passion and heat he breaks away and whispers into your ear, “porter cette question à mon bureau”. Which translates into, “Bring this matter to my office?” Of course the ‘office’ meaning his desk. I replied with, “Oui, monsieur” which translates into, “Yes sir”. I take his hand and lead him to the front corner of the room where his desk is held. I turn around and throw my arms over his shoulders and kiss him. During this, he picks you up by your hips and slowly lowers you down onto his desk. You lie down expecting a slow and passionate kiss waiting for you. But instead your pants are stripped from your legs with so much ****! You pick your head up in astonishment. You see Mr. Willingston with the sexiest face but at the same time off awfully frightening. He is looking at you with such passion but has an ‘eager’ face. He throws his body on top of yours and kisses you with such passion; it throws you off of a bit. You decide to make the best of it and put your arms around his shoulders. He picks his head up and takes your arms and put them over your head. He then takes one hand off one wrist and slowly takes his index finger and lightly traces you, starting from your forehead down to your belly button. He lifts up your t-shirt and kisses your stomach. You shiver the lower he gets. He then sticks out his tongue and—
“Hey can I borrow a pencil?”
You jerk back into reality and look around the room. It’s Timothy, your desk neighbor. He sits in front of you; he has his hand stuck out as if you owe him a pencil. “What do I look like? The pencil fairy?” You think to yourself. You shake it off and reply, “ Uh sure” and start to look through your back pack for an extra pencil. You hand him a regular #2 pencil; no way were you giving that pencil thief another good mechanical pencil of yours. You hand it to him and looks at it as if he deserved a good pencil. “What?” You say, “With all of the other pencils you stole from me you ought to have 30 pencils.” He rolls his eyes and accepts it. “I’m not giving him another pencil again.” You think to yourself. Just after you finish that thought the bell rings and students gather their things and begin to leave, some have already been waiting to leave for the past 2 minutes. Lunch is next, which is good—it’s meatball sandwiches.