Teaching Her a Lesson Pt. 10

With her body going slack in my arms, I let up before she slipped and hurt herself. Wouldn't that be fun to explain to Megan.Sorry, your daughter has a concussion because I made her come too hard in the shower this morning right after I took her virginity. I guess she'd never been fingered while a guy fucked her from behind in the shower before.The woman tried to blackmail me to cover her debts; just think how much fun a fat hospital bill would be to cover my over-stimulating her firstborn's clit.

"Gosh, sorry, Mr. Canon. That was... wow. You can do that to me any time. I mean, you can pretty much do whatever to me any time, since I'm your personal booty call and all. Nothing wrong with that. But I definitely liked that. I guess that's the perk of learning sex from a grown-up, right? Like, I-"

All right, that was crossing the line. "Dammit, Cassie, please do not refer to me as a 'grown-up' when I'm the middle of...!"

She snort-laughed. "Yeah, I guess we're all kids at heart, right Mr. Canon?"

Theshcrack of my hand slapping down on her dripping wet ass reverberated around the shower. "Just shut up and let me fuck you, OK, Cassie?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Canon."

Finally, some quiet. I held my position a moment, basking in the snug grip of her breathtakingly innocent grip on my shaft. There was no rush. We'd gotten up early. The shower only gave me twenty, maybe twenty-five good minutes of hot water before it kicked me out. That meant I still had plenty of time to savor her, to drag out my satisfaction at my leisure. After my e-learning day, I was all set for first period, so I didn't need to be at school for well over an hour. All the time in the world to enjoy a leisurely bout of-

"I really like this position, I think. My behind is my good side, everyone says, so it feels kinda sexy to be showing it to you. And like, with my face mushed up against the wall like this, I can close my eyes and let my imagination help, too. Not that I need imagination man. Honestly, I think Iso prefer you to him. Your cock is so hard in my cha-cha it's like a rock. But warm. And awesome. And moving so fast! Wow! Mmm. You know, I don't think I ever said thank you? I mean it. Thank you, Mr. Canon. I might have gone years before I let a boy do all this, and it's just the best. I swear I'm not just sucking up! I could do this every day. I mean, not tonight, because I have this group project for econ we're working on and I'll be lucky to get home by curfew as it is. Though hey! You could tell Mom to let me stay out past curfew. We could do another sleepover, and we could do as much sex stuff as you want! Man, that'd be awesome. I really like sleepovers anyway, and getting to pleasure you is so fun that it makes them like a million times better. Man, you're really going hard! I think I like softer better, but maybe I just don't know enough yet. I'll watch more porn and see what the deal is. Geez! Wow, the tile feels really cold on my boobs, you know? Which is weird because the water is so warm. I feel like I'm at a bad angle. Here, maybe if I get up on my tippy toes? Yeah, that's way better. For me, anyway. Let me know if it's not better for you. Oh. Oh, man, Mister, Canon, you're, sexing, me, so, hard, it's, hard, to, talk! OPE! Spanking! That's, so... Oh! Oh wow, did you just come in me? Twice in one day? Oh man, awesome! Why do I feel so proud? I guess I never made a grown- err, a boy come before. Except with my hands a couple times, but that barely counts. But doing it like that, with my cha-cha, that feels... mmm. Like... womanly. I really like that. I hope you do sex stuff with me a lot, Mr. Canon. You're really, really good at it."

My chin sunk onto her shoulder as I caught my breath. "Likewise, Cassie."

"Aw, thanks!" As my cock deflated and eventually slipped out of her, it was replaced by her hand probing the site. "Does it just slip out of me? Or stay in? I don't know how cum works. Like, is it going to just squoosh out in my underwear all day, or does it come out when I go to the bathroom, or what?"

"I don't know, Cassie."

"Huh. Well I'll let you know once I find out."

"Thanks, Cassie."

She twisted her head and gave me a sweet but lengthy kiss, lips only. "Any time, Mr. Canon."

"Afternoon, Mr. C."

"Abbie? Why aren't you in class?"

"Fuck me, you're so hot when you're doing your teacher shit. 'Why aren't you in class, Abbie,'" she parroted in a deep voice, wagging her finger sternly and laughing off my concern. "Anyway, my class is watching a video and doing a worksheet. I'll have one of the horny dork-boys copy their answers on mine. Probably just a completion grade anyway. Mr. Reevis is retiring, and he pretty much checked out after spring break. "

"I'm sure he still at least takes attendance. You can't ditch class. You'll get suspended."

"I'm not ditching. I called this little dork-ass freshman who thinks she's such hot shit taking junior classes a prepubescent cunt. I got up in her face when I said it, so he sent me down to Officer Barbour 'cause it looked like we were gonna fight."

"You what?"

"Chill. I went down there, got the referral stamped and shit so it's legit. Then I told her to give me a Saturday class and left. She knows where I was going, said it'd be cool. You wanna lock the door though? Be pretty weird if somebody stops in, since I don't even have you or nothing."

She was right, of course, and I did as she suggested. Why didn't I just kick her out? The way her chest looked in that scoop-necked top probably had something to do with it. "So, to what do I owe the privilege of your illicit company?"

The girl shook her head, sweeping her hair back over her shoulder as if to make sure her breasts suffered no obstruction. "You do it for me, Mr. C. You really do. But that vocabulary of yours dries me right the fuck up. No lie."

"Humblest apologies," I said sarcastically.

"Oh, don't pout. You know I'm just giving you shit. Taylor said you like real talk anyway. That right? You like us when we're a little bitchy?"

I gestured for her to sit. Rather than use the desk's chair, though, she sat down on the desktop. The usual rebuke came by reflex. "In the chair, please. Those surfaces aren't built to take a hundred-some pounds of weight on them. It breaks the brackets that hold the desktop in place."

"Yeah, but if I sit in the chair, how you gonna see how cute my panties look." She lifted her skirt, flashing me a glimpse of something black, or maybe dark red, underneath.

"Off the desk."

She laughed, hopping down. Instead of sliding into the chair, though, she glided over to where I was sitting and threw one thick leg over my lap. There was a cloud of fragrance around her, the sort of blindingly floral perfume I remembered the sorority girls in my dorm dousing themselves with before a big party. She plopped down atop a stack of worksheets from my juniors, legs spread wide. I was only a few inches too tall to be able to see right up her skirt right there, but it didn't keep me from trying to develop X-ray vision. Up close, her scent really was transfixing. Simply looking at her had a way of gumming up my thoughts. Adding in another sensory input was downright discombobulating.

"This better?"

"It's fine. Just don't mess up those papers. I collect them in order so they're easier to redistribute."

"Pretty sure my twat doesn't know how to shuffle, dawg. It's gonna be OK."

I let the vulgarity slide. "So what all did Taylor tell you?"

"Pretty much all of it. That you called her a bitch, said you wanted to hate-fuck her. Then you did, like fifty times. Seemed like somebody was a little embarrassed about how much she liked it. Took some work getting it out of her."

"Poor you...?" I shrugged.

"No worries. But you know what? It got me thinking. Look at you, getting students thinking. You should feel good about yourself."

"Are you going to tell me what you were thinking, or are you waiting for me to ask? Because believe it or not, I do actually have work to do."

Abbie leaned forward, hands braced on the desk surface between her legs. Her breasts hung invitingly in my face. "Why haven't you fucked me yet?"

The bluntness of her question took me aback. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, look at me. I'm hot as fuck. They built pornhub on girls like me. Search 'big tits teen' and you find a hundred girls built exactly like me. I got It, and enough to share with the mothafuckin' class, yo. I've even been overdressing for it lately, too. Shit, I got sent to the office second period by that fucking bitch Mrs. Lindstrom for dress code today."

"For that? Or were you actually wearing something sluttier before?"

"This. I didn't actually go, retard. Sorry. 'Mr. Canon.' Half the time teachers think the central office is letting my shit slide, but really I just don't go and y'all are too busy to follow up. Anyway, the point is, even I wanna fuck me. Taylor and I look enough alike you thought we were actual sisters, so I know I'm your type. Shit, I'm every guy's type. I've flashed you my underwear, sent you nudes, told you in every language I speak that I wanna fuck you, but you still haven't. So... what the fuck?"

"Pretty sure you only told me in English." If that was what she was speaking. I didn't share some of my colleagues' contempt for black English, but coming out of the mouth of this suburban white girl, it was a bit much.

"Yeah, well, I'm flunking Spanish. Answer the question."

It was hard not to ogle her while I sought the answer. She didn't seem to mind, though. Heck, the ogling might even mollify her bruised ego. "Look, I don't know. It's not personal. Yes, like you said, you're attractive."

"I said 'hot.' 'Attractive' is for forty-something cougars who used to be hot."

"Semantics. But I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, all right?" What had the world come to, where I was apologizing to a student fornot having sex with her?

"And you're not. Trust me, I know what I'm worth. All this?" She gestured expansively to her bust, or maybe it was meant to refer to the entirety of the person sporting it. "It's premium content. There's bitches got onlyfans and private snapchats making bank who don't got half of this. Feel me? I ain't coming in here crying because poe widdle me ain't getting her muffin buttered. Now lemme axe you again, why you ain't fucked me?"

One unintended slight and suddenly she was full-on channeling Nicki Minaj at me. Poor time for a lecture on cultural appropriation, though, I supposed. "I don't know, Abbie. Honestly. I don't."

"Well something's stopping you. You could be inside me, right now, but instead you're all 'buh, buh, I dunno, Abbie.' Just be straight with me. You're obviously dtf, so-"

"Dtf?"

"Down to fuck. Jesus."

"Isn't that dtfj?"

"Hilarious, Mr. C. But you wanna fuck pussies, that's established. So why not mine? Is it just now you got Taylor, you don't want nothing else?"

I shook my head. "That's definitely not it."

The girl read more than I'd meant to reveal in that response, smile broadening. "I thought Cassie was walking a lil bowlegged today. Good for you, man." She swatted me on the arm. "So you're not a strict Taylorsexual, either. So... what? You gotta gimme something."

"It'll happen eventually, Abbie. When I feel like it. Did you really ditch class to come down here and try to bully me into having sex with you?"

"Bully...? What? Fuck you, Mr. C. Fuck, man, I risked getting my ass suspended to come down here and talk to you about getting this pussy on you, and you act like I'm being selfish? Damn. What I'm saying is, if I ain't got what you want, you gotta tell me that shit so I can doordash it."

"Can you translate that into English for me? I'm apparently flunking... whateverthat was."

Abbie laughed. "Yo, I know what girls like me and Taylor are to you. Tits and ass. Sex objects. We're supposed to let you ogle our bodies, be your fantasy sluts." There they were - Taylor's words, spoken in sarcasm but now translated into frank pragmatism by her brainwashed sister. "Thing is, only Taylor's getting to be in those fantasies. Seems like I gotta force my way in. But I'm your fantasy slut too. That's just who I am. And if there's one thing that drives me out of my goddamn mind, it's somebody trying to stop me from being me."

It took me a moment to wrap my head around that. "Holy shit, you are twisted, Abbie."

"Well if I am, I ain't the one who did the twisting. Now what do I gotta do? What's your fantasy girl? You want me to be a prissy little princess bitch like Taylor?"

(Taylor? The girl who last night told me how she'd ripped a handful of pubes off of a guy from Westmoore High because he'd told somebody at a party she dressed slutty? Yeah, move over, Meghan Markle.)

But Abbie kept right on going. "You want me to wear a schoolgirl outfit and call you 'sir'? Wear a cheerleader uniform and giggle at how smart you are? Wear leather and slap you around? Just name it, yo. But quit ducking me because you're afraid to take what you want."

"Is that supposed to goad me into something, Abbie? Imply I'm a pussy, and the Serenex will make me lose my mind and do anything to make you think I'm not? Even for you, reverse psychology is a fairly amateur gambit."

"Right, so having a teenage babe like me alone in your classroom begging you to fuck her any way you want no questions asked, no limits, and you go 'nah, I'd rather grade worksheets' - that doesn't seem like pussy shit to you."

She had a point. But... "Just because I'm not having sex with you specifically here and now doesn't mean I'm not having sex with someone else elsewhere and later. I'm not a pussy. I simply have a modicum of self-control." Not the best way to categorize my recent history, but in this exchange at least.

"OK, so you want me to be a good girl. Behave myself. Wait for you to be ready. Is that it?"

"It would be an excellent starting point."

"Fine then," she said, sliding down off my desk. To her credit, she kept the papers under her butt from being knocked onto the floor and making a mess. "I'll start waiting."

"Thank you."

I expected her to leave, but instead, she walked to the opposite side of the room and sat down at a desk facing my own. That was it. She sat there, and she stared. Better than a tantrum, I supposed. Why is it I wasn't giving her what we both wanted, anyway? Was I really denying myself this pleasure simply because I didn't like being pushed around in my own classroom?

Once again I wondered what all, if anything, she might have put in my head during my own Serenex trance without telling me. Whatever it was, if anything, it hadn't turned me into the sort of man she wanted. Some sort of misogynistic brute, from the sound of it.

Whatever. Let her sulk. I uncapped my pen and got back to work. It was easy grading at least, fill-in-the-blank stuff that was a quick boom, boom, boom down the rows. Hopefully a little simple work like this would boost their grades a little. It was my juniors' second-to-last semester colleges would look at, so a little padding never hurt. After a little while it became like Saturday class, sitting in a room with silent occupants who needed no minding. Abbie faded out of existence and I got back in my zone.

For about twenty whole minutes.

Unff.

I heard it before I saw it. Honestly, the first time the noise reached my ears, my peripheral vision assured me she'd merely been adjusting herself in her seat, thighs bared by her short skirt squeaking softly on the plastic seat. Then after a few moments, I heard it again. That time I ignored it. She was only trying to act out, get attention. A tale as old as time in my profession.

The third time the noise reached my ears, I made a fatal mistake. I looked up.

Abbie was still in her seat. Her legs were crossed, and if the length of her skirt meant that showed me a few square miles of soft, tanned thigh, the leg at least blocked her panties from view. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and her eyes were closed. If I'd kept my eyes on her for one second less, I might not have even noticed. Partially obscured by that raised leg, one wrist was betraying the slightest bit of motion.

Abbie was playing with herself.

It was impossible not to watch. All the things I'd done with these women in the past week, and yet I still hadn't had them simply sit there and let me watch them pleasure themselves. With the spectacle unfolding in front of me, I wanted to kick myself. Abbie was remarkably subtle. If not for that micro-moan, if not for the fact that I could stare as hard as I wanted without her caring, I probably wouldn't have noticed. She could have sat there in my class in the middle of my lesson and masturbated in front of me, and I might never have even noticed.

Her lips parted.Unff.

"Abbie..." I said cautioningly.

Her hands flew out from between her legs, eyes flew open. "Shit! Sorry. Shit shit. God damnit, now it's happening in school! Shit!"

"OK, I'll bite. What's happening in school."

"Fuck you. You're just gonna be a dick about it."

"About you... masturbating in the middle of my classroom?"

"I wasn't...!" Her mouth pursed at the obviousness of the lie. "Fine, I was jilling it, whatever. But it's your fault. Anyway, chill. I won't do it again."

"My fault? What on earth did I do to make you start behavingthat inappropriately in my classroom?"

"Yeah so first off, maybe the guy who fucked my tits on his desk while my sister lubed him up with her tongue should be a little less judgy about being inappropriate in his classroom. Second off, it's... it's embarrassing."

It was bizarre, seeing her blush. Was it an act? It had to be. Right? "Abbie, is something really wrong, or are you just playing games with me for attention?"

"Is something wrong? Is...!" She laughed. "You're a piece of fucking work, Mr. C. Make me like this, treat me like shit, then blame me for not being able to handle it."

"Make you like what? I thought you were OG, don't play by nobody's rule but my own, yo." Admittedly, caricaturing her did feel pretty satisfying. I could see why she did it so much.

"I mean for being... being so..." She grit her teeth. "For being so fucking horny I can barely function every waking minute of the mother fucking day!"

I arched an eyebrow. "That's just what being a teenager is like. Trust me, it'll pass."

"No, not like that. This is... different. I can stillfeel your cum on my tits, your cock stabbing in and out of them. Like, whenever I close my eyes... you're there. I can't stop thinking about you. About doing stuff with you. About you doing stuff to me. About the things we've already done, the things we didn't do yet. And like, I just..." She trailed off, eyes squinting shut.

I frowned. This was still probably some game... but if it wasn't, could this be something serious? I hadn't been paying close attention to what all Taylor and I had said in front of her that afternoon, nor did I know what else Taylor might have said to her in the car on their way home. Maybe nothing. But maybe...

"You just have to relax, Abbie. It's just hormones. If you're this worked up, maybe just find a nice guy and have a little harmless fun. Work it out of your system."

The girl scoffed. "Yeah, 'cause that's your fantasy. Me fucking a bunch of randos to blow off steam." Then she paused, looking at me warily. "It's not, is it?"

Her tone conveyed an unspoken certainty that if the answer was yes, she'd walk out the door and proposition the first boy who walked past her in the hallway. Be a whore, spread her legs because I said it might amuse me. God, this much power over a person... it was heady. "It's not," I assured her. "I'm only trying to give advice, such as it is. Though really, the best thing for it is to just go home, take care of things yourself, and one of these days we'll get together and have some fun. After last night, I just need some time to recuperate."