Her finger is in your ass, her mouth around your cock.  She is doing something deep inside of you that is making your cock leak and drizzle on the back of her tongue.  You hear her swallowing — wet, dirty slurps.  Opening your eyes and looking down, you see a pink-hued liquid sheen around her lips, lipstick having smeared and mingled with your cock juice.

The lewdness of what you see — this is Ms. Kavinaski, after all — causes your prick to vibrate and you’re about to pump a load into her mouth, when she senses it and quickly pulls away  — one big slimy, loud suck up the shaft and over and off the mushroom knob.  Your cocks is free, the air-conditioned air instantly cooling the hot slobber that drips down its shaft.

“Not yet.”

Your professor wiggles her finger deeper into your asshole and stares into your eyes as that finger hula hoops around and around.  You grunt, your hands pressed to the sides of the chair, knuckles white.

“How bad do you want it?”

Despite the mottled redness of embarrassment burning your skinny neck, hairless chest, and your pale face, you can’t help yourself.  Your hips move on their own, your mouth is a silent “O” opening and closing, opening and closing.  She licks her tongue around the roseate stain etching her lips, moves her finger outward to the inside edge of your puckered anus, then slowly begins moving it in and out. Deeper. Then Deeper. And Deeper still.

“I’m finger fucking your tight, little virgin ass, dear boy.  But, then again,” she grabs your still-oozing dick with her free hand and slowly pumps it, “but this is virgin, too.  Isn’t it?”

When you don’t answer — instead closing your eyes and moaning — she stops pumping her fist.  “Answer me, or I’ll stop.”   Eyes still closed you begin to open your mouth.  “No.  Open your eyes and look at me.  Look at  Mrs. Kavinaski and say it.”   You open your eyes.  Looking at her you feel dirty — like a dirty, little boy.  Her slight sneer makes you even feel dirtier.  She knows what you are feeling, what she is doing to you, how out-of-control hot you are.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

It is barely a squeak; but, there, you at least said something. But she’s not satisfied.

“Don’t call me ma’am, call me teacher.  I’m your teacher.  I’m your vile, dick-jerking, ass-fingering teacher.  And you’re my slutty, nasty, dirty student.  A very horny student who needs something from me real bad.  So why don’t you try again.  If you want to me to play with this stiffy of yours, try again.”  She jerks it up and down just once, then looks at you expectantly.  You swallow, even as her finger continues to deliberately and methodically screw your asshole.

“Yes, Teacher.”

Her mouth is immediately back on your dick, her pumping finger picking up speed.  You feel your balls tightening, pulling up under your groin.  Your groans are loud, echoing in the otherwise empty classroom as your hips buck and you try to fuck her finger and mouth at the same time.  Then she removes her mouth and starts pumping your cock hard and fast.

“Now, tell me how bad you want it.”

“Please, Ms. Kavinaski.  I want it.  Play with my dick.  Jerk me off.  Finger fuck my ass. Please.  I want it bad.”  She smiles, pumps finger and fist even faster.

“Now!  Cum for teacher, you dirty, filthy boy.  Shoot that hot spunk right here on my face, while I ream out your ass with this finger.”

And you do.

You cum harder than you probably ever will again in your entire life, shooting all over Ms. Kavinaski’s auburn bangs, her neck, across her face.   You ride the knot to the end, feeling your balls jerking, your asshole spasming around her finger, watching a thick clump of your own boy-milk ooze down her forehead and cling to her thick eyelashes.   You are panting, sweating, almost crying from the intensity of it all, when she speaks again.

“What do you say?  What do you have to say now?”

This time, you know what to say.  Between rattled breaths, you answer.

“Thank you, Teacher.”