Right...Well, the completely fabulous and totally awesome (and sort of alright)
![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
rockstarpeach asked me for a naughty little Windsey over at ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
nekid_spike...Title: Detention
Pairing: Wesley/Lindsey (schoolteacher!Wes/student!Linds)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: *hangs head* Not mine and, let's face it, I really don't deserve 'em...what with all the abuse and everything...
Warnings: Okay, so this is a SCHOOLTEACHER/STUDENT fic. Lindsey is (just) underage. Wes is a bit of a naughty man, but not a bastard or anything so don't worry my lil Peach ;-) Other warnings = language, spanking, very mild BDSM, slight humiliation as a kink
Summary: Lindsey is a misbehaving student...Wes is the teacher who has to teach him a lesson...
Detention
Wesley rolled his eyes and pursed his lips as his (completely fascinating, in his opinion) discussion about the Salem witch trials was interrupted by the classroom door banging open loudly. All heads swivelled to the source of the noise, glad for the distraction as they impatiently waited for the last lesson of the day to end.
Lindsey strolled into the room, pushing the door closed behind himself, mercifully more gently than he’d opened it. At Wesley’s eyebrow raise, he said, “Sorry I’m late. I was…doing somethin’.”
Wes watched him saunter to his seat and slide into it with irked amusement. “You know, I’m rather offended that you can’t even be bothered to think of a convincing lie as to why you’ve missed fifteen minutes of my class.”
“Well…I’m sorry to hear that, Sir,” he replied in his sinfully sexy drawl, the mocking lilt so subtle that Wesley couldn’t even really call him on it.
“I’m sure,” he said sardonically. “Page fifteen.”
As he continued recounting some gruesome facts – keeping a bunch of sixteen year-olds’ attention wasn’t easy, particularly when you were less than a decade older than them – he allowed his eyes to roam around the class. Every time they were drawn back to Lindsey, to his blue eyes and over-long hair and the half undone shirt that tauntingly revealed glimpses of his tanned chest.
To his sensual mouth, which was currently engaged in smiling and whispering something inappropriate to the pretty blonde girl sat next to him, Buffy Summers.
“Mr. McDonald…”
Lindsey’s eyes snapped forwards. “Yes, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?” he responded smoothly.
“Do you have something that you’d like to add?”
“No, Sir. You’re doin’ a great job,” he assured, earning sniggers from his classmates.
“Well, thank you for your endorsement. Now why don’t you do everyone a favour and let them concentrate?”
“To be fair, I don’t think I was distracting everyone,” he defended himself.
Wesley crossed his arms. “You were distracting me.”
A smirk slid over Lindsey’s features and he tried to swallow it. He allowed his gaze to bore into the older man’s, looking deep into the icy depths. “I apologise. I didn’t realise that I was so…attention-grabbing.”
Wesley smiled humourlessly, a spark of anger and heat flashing through his eyes. “Attention-seeking is closer to the mark. Be quiet and listen or I’ll be seeing you afterwards and distracting you from going home.”
Lindsey dropped his eyes and smiled, enduring the taunts from his classmates at Mr. Wyndam-Pryce’s threat of detention. He slid a little lower in his seat, ensuring that his groin was beneath the desk, well out of everyone’s line of sight.
The class continued uneventfully for a while, for which Wes was grateful. They weren’t a bad bunch of kids, but teaching was never particularly easy and boys like Lindsey made it considerably harder. He was smart – almost as smart as he thought he was – and streets ahead of the majority of the students, which he seemed to think afforded him special license to do whatever he wanted. He bored easily and entertained himself by making trouble in mostly non-malicious ways, using his natural charm as much as possible to stay out of real hot water.
Wesley also wanted to fuck him through the floor, which certainly didn’t help matters.
He marked some assignment papers as the students worked through the task he had set them: to write a short exposé about the religious context of the trials. The muted sound of stifled laughter reached his ears and he raised his eyes, observing the class from beneath his lashes.
Lindsey and his best friend, Xander Harris, appeared to be engaged in a game of charades across the room. Wesley had no idea what message Lindsey was trying to convey through his exaggerated hand motions, and apparently neither did Xander because he kept shrugging and mouthing “What?” Eventually, Lindsey scowled and threw a wadded up piece of paper at him, to which he responded by giving him the finger.
And were these boys really sixteen years old…?
Wesley cleared his throat pointedly, and the boys looked to the front of the class guiltily, instantly swivelling in their seats to face forwards again.
“Finished already, have we?”
“No, Sir,” mumbled Xander. Lindsey said nothing, and Wes raised an eyebrow expectantly.
The boy seemed to be trying to force himself to swallow whatever was on his mind and be suitably contrite, but he just couldn’t manage it. “Well, it does seem fairly redundant.”
Wesley put down his pen in annoyance and hastily-suppressed amusement. “Oh does it? And why’s that, exactly? Do enlighten me.”
“What is there to say? Bunch of semi-hysterical Puritans, raised in a superstitious and misogynistic environment…Hardly a surprise, is it? Y’ain’t gonna get any astounding insights from us about it.”
“Lindsey, I don’t get any astounding insights about anything from you, so don’t concern yourself – my expectations are not high. And yet, you still have to do the assignment.”
The boy glowered at both the dismissive tone and the fact that he was expected to do something so pointless. “Fine,” he muttered petulantly. He spotted out of the corner of his eye that Xander was waggling his finger at him, beneath Mr. Wyndam-Pryce’s line of sight. Irritated, he snatched up another ball of paper and hurled it at his friend.
“Right, that’s it,” snapped Wesley. “I hope you didn’t have any pressing business tonight.”
“What?! No way; that’s not fair!” whinged Lindsey, pointing at Xander. “He started it!”
“Me?!” exploded Xander, feigning shock and outrage. “I was just sitting here, minding my own business and completing the brilliant assignment that Mr. Wyndam-Pryce set…”
“Be quiet, Xander,” ordered Wesley, rolling his eyes.
“Nimrod,” stage-whispered Lindsey, shaking his head at Xander.
“Lindsey,” said Wes warningly.
“What? I’m just sayin’…I don’t see why I gotta stay behind when I didn’t even really do anything, and it wasn’t just me, and this whole damned thing’s stupid anyway…”
Resolutely not finding the kid’s pouting lower lip cute, Wesley replied in a hard tone. “Have you quite finished having a tantrum?”
“Yes,” he mumbled, folding his arms and glaring at his desk.
“Good. Now, pick up your things and go to my office. I’m sure you’ll find Xander far less distracting from there, and I will see you after the class finishes so that we can discuss your attitude.”
“But…”
“Now, Lindsey!”
Cursing almost under his breath, Lindsey scooped everything into his rucksack and rose to his feet, dramatically clattering his chair under his desk and storming out, carefully keeping the bag in front of his groin as he did so.
Rubbing his neck, Wesley instructed the rest of the class to settle down and continue, while he pretended to finish marking papers. Mind full of thoughts of Lindsey sitting in his office, all riled up, he glanced at his watch every minute or so, wishing for the time to slide by faster.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Wesley entered his office, he found that Lindsey was sitting in his chair, feet up on the desk. He hurriedly pushed away and let his boots thud to the floor when the older man closed and locked the door.
“Tell me, Lindsey…Do you like being told off in front of the rest of the class?”
He stood up slowly, looking challengingly at Wes. “Not as much as you like telling me off in front of ‘em.”
“And yet…” he began as he stalked predatorily across the room and around the desk, “You still run that insolent mouth off at every opportunity.”
Lindsey swallowed hard, staring up at Wes and trying not to flutter his eyelids at their proximity. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry, what?”
“I’m sorry…Sir.”
Wesley raked his eyes over him, a small smile playing over his lips. “No, not yet. But you will be, Lindsey. You know what you get for misbehaving in my class, don’t you?”
He nodded solemnly; yes, he did know. That was why he did it.
“Tell me.”
“You teach me a lesson,” he replied huskily.
“That’s right. You need to be punished, don’t you?”
Lindsey cast his eyes down and nodded.
“Don’t you?” repeated Wes sternly.
“Yes, I need to be punished,” he amended, fighting the almost overwhelming urge to grab and jack his rock-hard dick.
“Pants and underwear down, Lindsey.”
Wesley had no idea how he’d lucked out enough to find such a bloody sexy kid who was completely turned on by having a highly inappropriate student/teacher relationship. He knew that it was wrong and that he could get fired (not to mention arrested) for it, but he couldn’t help himself. Lindsey had put out signals too strong to be ignored, and he just couldn’t get concerned about the fact that the boy was sixteen, because that was legal back in the UK and he’d been messing around with men when he was younger than that himself.
Besides, there was no way in hell he was taking the blame for corrupting Lindsey; that ship had sailed LONG before he’d gotten hold of him. The memory of Lindsey’s words the first time still made him shiver. “You know, Sir, it’s well documented that the best way to deal with a kid like me is to reinforce your position as the authority figure. You have to show me who’s boss…Undermine my ego, humiliate me…You know what I’ve heard works real well? A good…hard…spanking…For starters.”
Lindsey flushed high along his cheekbones as he unbuckled his belt and unfastened his fly to shove his jeans and undershorts down in one fluid motion, even though he liked the humiliation of it. In fact, he only bothered to wear underwear on the days when he intended to annoy Mr. Wyndam-Pryce enough to ‘punish’ him.
Taking a deep breath at the sight of Lindsey – eyes lowered, jeans bunched around his muscled thighs, erection only partially hidden by his tee-shirt – Wes turned him towards the desk and shoved him up against it. When the kid grunted and smacked his hands down onto the desktop to regain his balance, Wesley planted a palm in the centre of his back to push him forwards and keep him stationary.
Lindsey loved that the man used his bare hands. Sometimes he dragged him over his lap, but Lindsey was incapable of not rubbing off on him in that position and white stains showed up on dark colours.
He bit off a sound that was partway between a cry and a moan as the first smack landed firmly on his right ass cheek. The teacher was never soft on him and he was always left with a tattoo of pretty bruises that made him hitch in a breath every time he sat down for the following week. Which was exactly how he liked it.
For a minute there was no sound but the sharp crack of hand on flesh echoing around the room and Lindsey’s increasingly loud sounds of both pain and pleasure. Wesley admired the red handprints springing up over the warm, pink skin, rubbing briskly to awaken the nerve endings even more.
“Do you know why I’m spanking you, Lindsey?” he asked conversationally, landing a particularly hard blow that made the kid cry out.
“Because of my smart mouth?” he guessed between pants. Hell, that was usually what got him into trouble.
Wesley smiled, slapping his upper thigh and making him jump at the abrupt alteration in placement. “No…Because you use your smart mouth for the express purpose of chasing a hiding…and that turns me on. You deliberately arouse me in class…and one of these days I’m going to punish you in front of everyone. Would you like that, Lindsey?” he asked silkily, striking his other thigh.
Gasping at the sudden rush of added lust, Lindsey planted his left hand closer to the centre of the desk so that he could balance and reached down to fist his dick with his right.
Wesley scowled. “Stop that.”
Lindsey ignored him.
The older man leaned forwards and yanked open a desk drawer, inordinately pleased with himself that he’d searched through his attic the other day for this particular relic from his childhood.
Lindsey started when he clocked the wooden ruler, but his cock jumped in his hand, pumping out trickles of pre-cum. He immediately let go, trying to stand upright, but Wes held him firmly.
“No, wait! I’m sorry!”
Wes cracked the ruler over Lindsey’s ass, feeling a sympathetic pulse through his own groin.
“Fuck!” roared Lindsey, bracing himself more heavily on his hands and breathing hard as he involuntarily bucked his hips forward.
“Shush…and watch your language,” admonished Wes. The sounds of the other children banging their lockers in the corridors and the jubilant shouts of freedom drifting in through the open window had long since faded, but there might still be people around. “You disobey me? I spank you. It’s a fairly simple system.”
Lindsey bit his lips hard as the ruler smacked his tender skin again, chest heaving and arms shaking. Shit…the obnoxious buzzing ache in his groin was driving him crazy! He already needed to come badly; he was going to have to convince Mr. Wyndam-Pryce to skip ahead today. The wooden ruler was just so…schoolmaster; it was totally getting him off. And how British the man was completely added to his fantasy…which wasn’t a fantasy so much as a sick, perverted reality. Damn, that was hot.
When he leaned forwards to collect himself a little, unwittingly widening his stance for balance, he got a strike that caught him across the back of his balls and barely prevented himself from screaming. If he’d still been touching himself, he’d have come.
“Stop, Sir! Please!” he begged and Wesley complied, rubbing a soothing hand over his burning backside.
“I haven’t finished punishing you yet, Lindsey,” he said softly, but firmly.
Resisting the urge to grip his dick with a great deal of difficulty, Lindsey looked over his shoulder and bit his lip sexily. “You’re right. I’ve been so bad this time…I deserve even more than usual,” he agreed beguilingly.
Wesley’s eyelids fluttered slightly, but he shook his head, trying to muster some conviction. “No, not that.”
He’d made the kid touch him and even suck him off a couple of times – he was damned near irresistible down on his knees – but he hadn’t fucked him. It just seemed too wrong, although where he’d developed a scruple from he didn’t really know.
Lindsey whined in frustration. “It’s not like I’m…it’s not like it’s never happened before,” he insisted, and wasn’t that the truth? In his experience, most adults were not as principled as Mr. Wyndam-Pryce; their gym teacher, Mr. Angel, was a prime example…Not that he thought recounting his encounters pinned to a vaulting horse was a particularly smart idea.
Especially since rumour had it that Mr. Wyndam-Pryce and Mr. Angel were an item.
It wasn’t exactly a surprise to Wesley that Lindsey wasn’t a virgin; in fact, he’d have put money on it. And he had to admit, wrong though it undoubtedly was, it did make him feel a little bit more sanguine about messing around with the kid. If Lindsey was consciously choosing to have sex – and, at pushing seventeen years of age, he was perfectly mature enough to do so – then it wasn’t really abuse, was it?
Somehow, he didn’t think the school board, the police or Lindsey’s parents would see it that way.
Wes pressed up against Lindsey’s back, rubbing his clothed erection over the boy’s ass and making him gasp at the rough scratch of fabric over his tender skin. He closed his eyes against the immense wave of lust, ghosting his hands over the kid’s body. Lindsey wasn’t quite fully grown yet; Wesley could tell that he’d never be tall, but he would fill out even more. He was already beautifully stocky, smoothly muscled from playing sport and working outdoors at the weekend.
Lindsey groaned and pushed back against his teacher, wriggling his ass to feel the friction of the man’s erection. Wesley grabbed his hips to still his movement, trying to stifle a moan.
“Please, Sir.”
“No, Lindsey. I’m not going to punish you like that.”
“Teach me, then,” he pleaded.
Wesley rested his face against Lindsey’s hair, face lined with the effort of resisting him. “You really are wicked, aren’t you? Trying to tempt me this way…”
Lindsey turned his head and leaned up to press his face against the older man’s, simultaneously insinuating a hand between their bodies to rub at Wesley’s groin. “Please?” he begged, rubbing his cheek over Wes’s jaw and bumping him with his nose like an eager puppy.
Cursing himself for his weakness, Wesley whispered, “Do you really want me to teach you, Lindsey? You’d have to do everything I told you to and follow my instructions exactly…”
The boy nodded vigorously, shivering a little in anticipation.
“I can’t hear you…”
“Yes, Sir. Please teach me…I’ll be good, and do everythin’ you say, I swear…”
“Good boy,” praised Wes, brushing a soft kiss over his forehead. He pushed slowly against the kid’s back, not letting up the pressure until Lindsey got the idea and lay bent over the desk. He slid his hands up Lindsey’s back, shoving his tee-shirt all the way to his armpits to expose the bronzed expanse of skin, slightly damp with sweat. Damn it, but he was sexy.
He wondered whether he’d do something this sick with a kid who was different from Lindsey, less smart and strong. He rather hoped not. But he was under no illusions; there was no bloody way a boy like Lindsey McDonald would do one damned thing that he didn’t want to. And he very obviously wanted to get fucked.
Knowing that he really shouldn’t, and finding it a bit of a struggle to care, Wesley said, “Spread yourself open for me; I want to see you.”
Lindsey blushed, ashamed of the surprised excitement twisting through him more than anything else. Surely Mr. Wyndam-Pryce didn’t mean for him to expose himself like that? “Huh?”
“You swore to do everything I said, remember?” replied Wes sternly, smiling as Lindsey involuntarily humped his cock against the desk a couple of times, aroused by the warning tone.
Hesitantly, Lindsey widened his legs as far as he could with the jeans still trapping them together and then reached back. Burying his face against the cold, hard desk as if it could hide his embarrassment, he gripped his cheeks and pulled them apart. “Is that right?”
“Perfect,” assured Wesley, drawing in a sharp breath. “Hold still,” he commanded and then trailed his fingertips down the crack of the kid’s ass, rubbing them firmly over his entrance before continuing down to pass lightly over his balls and give them a gentle tug. Lindsey couldn’t prevent his slight flinch at the first touch, but then he was gasping and trying to push back, despite his instructions.
Wes smacked him squarely, catching his balls, perineum and hole. “Obey me.”
The flash of lust was so strong that Lindsey was actually glad his hands were occupied with spreading himself open; otherwise, he might have been incapable of resisting the desire to give his cock the two strokes or so it would take to send him over the edge. “I’m sorry.”
“I should think so. Stay still.”
Wesley reached forwards to sort through another desk drawer, allowing his shaft to nudge up against Lindsey as he did so and enjoying the slight whimper it elicited. Now, where the hell was the…Ah-hah! Fortunately, he always kept lubricant on hand since he and Liam had started seeing one another.
He opened the cap and squeezed the tube, letting the liquid dribble down between Lindsey’s cheeks and smiling as the kid’s muscles clenched tightly with the effort of not squirming.
“Shit!”
Smiling, Wesley flicked his fingernail hard against Lindsey’s pucker, making him jump slightly. “Run your dirty mouth off again and you’ll be going home with nothing but a spanked arse to show for this.”
“No! I’m so sorry! Please, Sir…”
Stifling a laugh at the thought that Lindsey was starting to sound like Oliver Twist, Wes relented and pushed his middle finger inside the boy, rotating it gently to stretch him.
He was so tight! And responsive! Wesley caressed his ass cheek firmly with one hand, hurting the bruised skin a little, and quickly added a second finger with the other. The kid was panting harshly, almost shaking with the effort of not fucking back against Wesley’s hand; he wasn’t used to being worked slowly or teased and he desperately wanted to rub off against the desk…or preferably get his teacher’s dick inside him.
Realising that his pants were becoming both damp and very uncomfortable, Wesley unfastened them and pulled his cock free, stroking it with a loose grip as he continued to open Lindsey up for him. His excitement spiked and he decided that he didn’t want to wait much longer…And was he really going to fuck a student? Lindsey moaned loudly as his prostate was stimulated repeatedly.
Yes, yes he was.
Reluctantly releasing his dick, but taking the opportunity to slide it between Lindsey’s still-parted cheeks, he leaned forwards and began rifling through the open drawer again.
“What are you lookin’ for now?” panted Lindsey, slightly warily.
“A condom.”
“Oh…Okay,” he shrugged.
Wesley paused for a moment, fingers stilling where they were buried inside him. “You should always be using protection, Lindsey.”
The kid dropped his head onto the desk with a solid thunk. “I know you’re my teacher and everythin’,” he said, trying to keep his tone even and reasonable, “But is now really the time to be lecturing me?”
Wes flushed slightly; Lindsey had a point. Refraining from discussing it any further, he pulled out a foil packet and ripped it open with his teeth, smoothly rolling the rubber down his shaft and quickly applying a coat of lubricant. Lindsey couldn’t quite prevent himself from wriggling excitedly at the sounds; at last, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce was going to give him what he wanted. About damned time…
Wesley looked at the kid spread out before him and sighed in appreciation as his cock pulsed. Withdrawing his fingers, receiving a whine of protest, he smacked Lindsey lightly on the flank and then ran his hands intimately over him. “Move your hands now, Lindsey. Hold onto the far side of the desk…”
Lindsey eagerly complied; being laid out like some kind of sacrifice was almost as exciting as being held down.
Admiring the hotness of having the boy spread and ready for him – bracing himself for what he was about to get – and wishing that it didn’t turn him on quite as much as it did, Wesley placed one hand in the centre of Lindsey’s back and used the other to guide his cock inside. He didn’t go as slowly as he knew he should, too caught up in relishing the incredible tightness, and he had to press Lindsey hard against the desk to keep him from arching away from the intrusion. The kid’s knuckles were white from gripping the wood as he panted through the worst of the pain and tried to stifle his curses.
Wesley paused once he was fully seated, rubbing Lindsey’s back soothingly and feeling a twinge of guilt, although it was nowhere near enough to stop him now that he’d started.
“Are you alright?”
Lindsey nodded against the desk, exhaling forcefully. “Yes, Sir.”
Wesley’s eyes rolled in his head and he was glad that Lindsey couldn’t see him because he was pretty sure that the smile that slid over his features was sick and perverted and just not very nice.
He knew that Lindsey wasn’t new to sex, but he was still very young and relatively inexperienced, and so fucking tight that Wes felt like his dick was going to get squeezed off. He began to thrust inside him, slowly at first but soon picking up the pace when Lindsey gasped and unconsciously widened his legs, even though he hissed in a breath straight after.
“Am I hurting you?”
“A little,” replied Lindsey, his tone making it obvious that he considered that to be a bonus.
Knowing that the kid got off on both their situation and the harsh treatment, Wesley said in an uncompromising voice, “Well, you only have yourself to blame, Lindsey. You wanted me to teach you and now you just have to learn your lesson like a good little boy.”
It was so…very…wrong. Lindsey swore again, crying out as his prostate was jabbed at the same time as Mr. Wyndam-Pryce smacked his stinging ass for his bad language. Shit, at this rate he was gonna go over without even touching his dick! That had never happened before. Man, he was starting to get a bit concerned about how much he apparently enjoyed being a little bitch…
Not concerned enough to stop though.
Wes ensured that he was angling his strokes to nudge Lindsey’s sweet spot, smiling at the inarticulate sounds and mumbled words; amazingly enough, his voice was sexy even when he wasn’t making any sense. Wesley didn’t know whether or not the boy had been with grown-ups, but he rather hoped not: he liked the idea of his experience making him the best Lindsey had ever had.
He couldn’t stop touching the kid with the hand that wasn’t holding him in place; all that firm, supple skin over his tight, hard little body…he was sleek and beautiful and so blatantly sexual despite his youth. It was as if he’d been designed for fucking.
Lindsey had figured out that if he relaxed as much as possible, the teacher’s motion dragged him back and forth along the desktop. The sensation, added to the intense internal stimulation, soon had him rhythmically clenching and unclenching his hands against the wood as his thigh muscles twitched and jumped. Every time the older man’s pelvis slammed up against him there was a sharp little flare of pain from his spanked ass, and it gave the pleasure an edge that Lindsey found really arousing. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce had made him come before and it had always been as hot as fuck, the very idea that his teacher was jerking him off usually causing him to spill all over the man’s fist in a minute or two. But this was gonna be different; he could already feel deepening waves of pleasure crashing through him and he knew that it would be almost unbearably good.
Wesley knew when the kid was getting close. Although he couldn’t move very far, he had spread his thighs wide and canted his hips back to get Wes deeper, and he was using what small leverage he had to fuck up against the desk, grunting and moaning. His body was wracked with little tremors and Wesley could feel the coiled energy building deep inside, needing release.
“Try to hold off, Lindsey,” he instructed, looking down to watch his cock disappearing inside the kid and smiling at the mewl of protest he got in response. Fuck, he was such a tantalising example of tainted innocence. “Do what I tell you. Trust me; it’ll be better, I promise.”
Lindsey nodded, now trying to hold still and shaking with the effort of it. Purposefully attempting to stave off an orgasm was completely unfamiliar, especially since with certain other people he’d had to ensure that he came before they did or they’d send him away unsatisfied. And Mr. Wyndam-Pryce wasn’t actually making it any easier by nailing his prostate relentlessly, but fuck it felt good!
“Please…” he murmured, clenching his toes inside his boots and digging his fingernails into the wood of the desk. He whimpered a little as the momentum of the older man’s thrusts caused him to rub against the cool surface again and he almost lost it. His balls were practically crawling back inside his body, heavy and full and desperate to pump out their contents, but he concentrated hard on keeping himself from falling over the edge.
“You’re doing so well,” praised Wesley, stroking his hair. It wasn’t as if the kid would need to suffer for much longer; with the way his muscles were clamping and clenching around Wes’s dick, it wouldn’t be long before he shot his load too.
“Sir, please!” begged Lindsey hoarsely, biting hard on his lip. Fuck, fuck, fuck…Unsexy thoughts…Not thinking about his teacher pounding him into the desk…Fuck!
“No, Lindsey. Behave,” he commanded, subtly speeding up a little and adding a slight twist to his hip motion. He was so close and Lindsey wouldn’t be able to stand up to the torture for longer than a few more seconds. “You’re to do whatever I tell you…Do you want another spanking, hmmm? Or maybe I’ll just make you do lines – I’d like to see you have to walk to the front of the class hard and leaking for me…”
With a choked cry, Lindsey tenuous hold over himself shattered. Muscles tensing almost painfully and body bucking forwards, he felt tides of pleasure course through him and his groin became excruciatingly tight before the intense sensations exploded in spiralling bliss. His orgasm seemed to last forever, stronger than ever before from being withheld, and he pumped long jets of hot cum all over his body and the desk, cock pulsing even after he was dry.
Lust cresting at the manner in which he’d sent Lindsey over the edge, Wesley grabbed his hips and slammed into him hard for the last few strokes. Gasping loudly, his movements stuttered to a standstill and he unloaded copiously, fingers digging into Lindsey’s smooth flesh hard enough to leave more dark bruises.
Panting lightly, Wesley petted Lindsey through the afterglow until they were ready to move again. Withdrawing carefully, he disposed of the condom and reached for tissues to clean them both up. “Stay there a moment,” he said gently, wiping the lubricant from Lindsey’s upper thighs and pausing when he hissed in a breath. “Are you okay?” There had been a very small amount of blood, but nothing to worry about.
“Fine…Just a little sore,” replied Lindsey, wincing as he pushed himself up from the desk.
As Wes refastened his pants, he looked over Lindsey’s shoulder and realised that the kid had actually been doing his assignment while he’d been waiting. Now his textbook was covered in cum.
“Oh dear…Now look what you’ve done,” he teased, nodding at the book.
Lindsey smirked cheekily, looking back up over his shoulder. “Never mind…It was a fuckin’ dumb assignment anyway…”
With an annoyed scowl that was at least half amusement, Wesley slapped his ass with a resounding crack, making him yelp and reach back to rub over it, trying to sooth the sting.
Wes turned Lindsey round and tilted the boy’s head up so that their eyes met. “You need your mouth washed out with something.” He smiled at the heat that sparked in the blue depths.
“Yeah…Reckon I probably do,” he agreed, gingerly rebuttoning his jeans. He leaned forwards until his head was resting on Wesley’s shoulder, unconsciously seeking affection, and stared up in a manner that was almost guileless. “You’ll probably find somethin’ to do that with.”
Wes wrapped his arms around him and kissed his hair. “Yes,” he said softly, “And no doubt you’ll do something to deserve it.”
Lindsey smiled, nuzzling against his teacher and thinking that today he’d really learned some worthwhile things. “I’d better go. Momma’ll be wonderin’ where I am.”
Wesley sighed and released him, feeling another stab of guilt. “Lindsey…”
“Yes, Sir?” he asked, pausing in the act of retrieving his bag from the floor.
“Why don’t you get yourself a boyfriend?” Surely it would be much healthier for the kid to be seeing someone his own age…?
Lindsey snorted and looked down at his boots. “Yeah…that ain’t gonna happen. If I wanted the hassle of bein’ tied down, I’d at least find a chick to do it with. Besides…” He looked up into the blue orbs that never failed to make his stomach flutter and winked. “I like men, not boys.”
Wes wished that he could say the same.
He rolled his eyes, almost annoyed with himself for finding the kid so irresistibly charming. “Come on,” he admonished with a grin. “Hurry up.”
“Yeah, okay…Time for me to scamper off home,” said Lindsey, deliberately making himself sound like a little tyke. He laughed when Mr. Wyndam-Pryce narrowed his eyes as if he was considering swatting his ass again. “I’m sorry…I’ll be good tomorrow, I promise.”
Wes eyed him sceptically, reaching out to briefly touch his cheek. “I somehow doubt that.”
“I will! Until I can sit down again at least…” he assured with a smirk, grabbing his things and heading towards the door. Wesley’s eyelids fluttered a little, especially since he spotted that the kid was walking stiffly, and he cursed the heat that flashed through him. Bloody hell, but that boy was going to get him in serious trouble one of these days…
Lindsey walked out to the parking lot, whistling to himself. Well, that had gone well. Now all he had to do was keep a low profile – particularly where certain gym teachers were concerned – until he’d healed a little.
Whoever said school was boring just wasn’t doing it right…
There was nothing like a good detention.
THE END.
Current Location: London
Current Mood: 
naughty
naughty35 sluts gave it up | Put Out