Teaching Her a Lesson Pt. 28

Tabitha attempted to lag behind and take part in whatever was happening with Taylor's perplexing presence, but thankfully, she interpreted my bland stare as a rebuke and stalked on out the door. There was no need for her to be a part of this. That girl was on firm ground with me; lingering to sabotage her perceived competition was totally beneath her at this point.

Meanwhile, Taylor pretended to ignore us, still working, but now with a smug little grin at my refusal to indulge the waif. She was still working though. Her hand never let up.

I gave her the extra half hour that she'd missed before lunch, and then an additional five minutes for our late return. Not as if she had another exam to take, or I more students waiting on me. My next class was in August. Hers, maybe never. Meanwhile, I thought about what I wanted to say. The smart thing to do would be to wait until we'd sobered up and then hash it out clear-headed. As I found myself salivating over the long-denied sight of those long, tan legs, or the swelling cleavage being compressed out of the upper end of the top, however, I knew there was no waiting. Weeks of frenzied debauchery had proven I couldn't trust myself when it came to such temptation, least of all with Taylor Stern.

"That's time," I announced as the second hand hit twelve.

Taylor looked up, nodded, and calmly walked across the room to place her essay atop the stack that I had since moved to my desk. It was thus far untouched. Grading on Serenex had already proven impossible; there was no way I could make myself be sufficiently critical to provide honest evaluation. Everybody would get an A.

I looked down to Taylor's essay, and quickly amended that. Everybody but her would get an A.

I don't give a fuck. This is stupid. I hate this class. Eat my ass. This exam is lame. I'm the most bored I've ever been. No wait, now I'm even more bored. Now more. More. More. Even more. Sooooooooooo bored. I hate this. This is pointless. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Nobody cares.

That's as far as I read.

"Determined to fail," I said with a sigh. "Should have seen it coming, I guess."

"It's what I deserve, right?" she answered with a smirk.

"You do deserve to fail, but... god damnit, Taylor, you could at least try. You'd be surprised how often people will cut you some slack if you at least make an effort." She looked on as I flipped through the pages, the scores of meaningless, sulky lines of words. By the final few pages, she'd begun drawing instead, a crude but unmistakable rendition of her launching herself like a rocket, only in place of rocket flames was a cock. Mine, I supposed. Classy.

Instead of trying to walk out like the rest of the class had, however, Taylor hopped up on my desk with her peculiar talent of graceless dexterity. She folded her legs beneath her and, I discovered a moment later once I managed to look up, smirked down at me as I tried and failed not to be mesmerized by her bared legs. For as much as I obsessed over her boobs, those things really didn't get enough credit. Except then her tits were right at my eye level, and it became a toss-up. It was all I could do to keep my hands off her. Knowing she couldn't stop me if I did made it so much worse, though knowing that she wouldn't try if she could help keep me in check. This was not to become a reward for her.

Once she was satisfied she had my attention, she addressed my comment. "You know, C-dawg, I made an effort at quite a few things lately, and it'd blow your goddamn mind how much some of my teachers didn't seem to notice."

Earlier today, I'd been ready to blow up at her. She probably would be doing the same. Instead here we were, discussing our whole messed up affair like we were discussing a cake recipe.Too much sugar? No no, not enough, madame.

I shook my head. "'Made an effort.' That's your categorization for how you've behaved yourself. Effort."

"You bet your ass I did." She sighed irritably. For a moment, I thought the deep breath was going to squeeze a tit right out of that spandex. "You didn't read my essay, did you."

"Oh, I read it." I fished the thing out of where I'd stuffed it in a drawer before lunch, setting it neatly in her lap, right where it had come from. "I read it several times, just to make sure I hadn't missed any details of the bullshit you've been putting everyone through."

She cocked her head back, brushing the essay onto the floor dismissively. "First of all, language. Second, you read it, andthat - sorry, didn't mean to raise my voice - that's your response? I poured my heart and soul into that thing, didn't plagiarize a single word for once, and you're pissed at me for it?"

I placed my hands on her knees familiarly. Then I thought better of it, but it felt like it would be more confrontational removing them now. They stayed. "Look, Taylor. I'm not saying none of what you wrote was moving. You gave me some insights I had lacked. There's a lot about your life I didn't know in there, and I am..." I hesitated. I didn't want to oversell or undersell this. Honest and constructive feedback on essays was kind of my thing. "I am glad you were willing to share all that with me, and I acknowledge the emotional courage that must have taken. Really. Still, you paint a rather one-sided portrait of yourself, don't you think?"

Her hands closed over mine, long nails grazing across my skin. "All portraits are one-sided. What in the hell is a two-sided portrait?"

"Sorry, my metaphors aren't quite up to snuff. See, somebody had their minion drug me earlier."

"Really Weird. Some prick broke into my house and drugged me, but my analytical skills seem to be working A-OK."

"Anyway," I said, careful not to come across as too combative. Somebody had to keep this discussion moving. "For instance, you talked about getting bullied in elementary school. Which sucks, it really does. Still, a little bird told me about a girl scout camp where somebody teased you and you hacked off their hair in their sleep. Or was it everyone's hair? I forget."

Her nose wrinkled. "Nobody said I was a saint. Besides, that was when I was transitioning! I'd lost like twenty pounds, which is practically a whole leg for an eleven-year-old, and those Brownie-ass bitchesstill made fun of me. Was I supposed to just let them? Talk shit, get hit. Law of the jungle. Eye for an eye."

"The law of the jungle is survival of the fittest; I think you're referring to the law ofThe Count of Monte Cristo. Regardless, I'm not looking for a blow by blow account of your life here. What I'm saying is, I've seen you in class these past two years. You've bullied your classmates plenty of times, and made my professional life hell. If you expect me to raise you up on a pedestal of victimhood when you're guilty of so much of what you're complaining about... well, it's a tough sell."

"I wasn't writing it to make you feel bad for me, you... jerk," she retorted, mumbling the last word. I didn't miss that she was transitioning my hands to the sides of her legs, and slightly up. Enough that my desk chair had to roll forward a couple inches. "I was writing it because... fuck, C-dawg, I wanted you toget me. Or at least, towant to get me."

"I do. Taylor, even before all this, you were my student. How many times have I told you, all of you, that I'm here for you if you need me? Did you think I was saying it to be nice? You know better than anyone that if I'm pissed off, I'm going to give it to you like I think you deserve."

"You wanna fuck me so bad right now, don't you," she said with a wry grin. Damn her for picking up on my phrasing. Damn my subconscious. Damn those legs. The movement was even less subtle this time, my fingertips right up to and inside the hem of those powder blue shorts. "C'mon babe, is it so much to ask, after I fucked you a hundred times, had an orgy with you in the locker room, did some pretty fucked up shit in some fucked up places, that I rate a little more consideration than the rest of the class?"

"You do. And maybe you're right, I haven't always given you your due. Being with you,that part of things, that's been incredible." I managed to withdraw my fingertips a half an inch or so. Maybe I only thought I did.

"Let's just fuck while we talk. OK? We both want to, and we get along so much better when we got your dick in me. You can keep grilling me. Just fuck me while you do."

"What? No! Have you learned nothing from the whole flashing the principal incident?"

"I don't care. I'm not embarrassed of anyone finding out I'm fucking you. More than you can say, which is something to keep in mind while you're up on your high horse. Come on. Whip it out."

"You're being childish."

"Childish, huh?" Still holding my hands on her thighs, she slid forward until her feet touched the floor, standing with her legs straddling mine. With a casualness that only belonged in the privacy of her own bedroom, she teased and tugged at the bottom of the tube top, peeling the skin tight fabric upwards until it was a yellow ribbon bunched around the very top of her breasts. It squeezed in such a way as to make them look even bigger. I finally managed to issue a word or two of protest by the time she leaned forward and wrapped them around my face.

I should struggle, I tried to scream at myself.You'll get fired. Prosecuted. Get away. At least try to make it look like you're not going along with it. Is it weird that I love the smell of the sweat between her tits?

At last, after what felt like a full week of slurping on Taylor titties (but was probably merely an iron-willed five-ish minutes in reality), it occurred to me I ought to try harder to extricate myself. Very careful to avoid running over her bare toes in their flip flops, I began to scoot my desk chair backward. Tits followed. Soon I bumped into the cabinets behind me, and they were already right on the heels of my lips. No. Don't let her in. I made to stand up. She helped me.

Wait. Why was she helping me?

Taylor crouched low and got to work on my belt and fastenings.

Oh. That was why.

"Please don't take my pants off," I demanded blandly.

"Your mouth says no, but your... oh,dayum C-dawg, you pop a boner pill or something? Because your boner says hurry the fuck up." She gave it a soft kiss. "You got it, buddy."

"An erection is not consent."

"Of course. You can say no whenever you want."

Maybe she was feeling generous. Maybe she thought it would make me more pliable. Maybe she was simply that horny. Whatever the cause, for the first time, Taylor leaned forward and gave me a blowjob.

That wasn't to say she hadn't sucked my dick. There was a big difference, though, between getting your dick sucked and getting a blowjob. She licked her way up the whole length, then ever-so-patiently, oh-so-lovingly swallowed her way back down. She moaned. Taylor Stern had moaned around my cock like it was doing her a favor. It was so slow, so painstaking, so motherfuckingwet, I forgot what I was supposed to say.

"Yes," I guessed.

She laughed, but it didn't stop her. Thank god. Or, no, I wanted to stop her. Yes. I had questions. Just... not yet. It would be rude to interrupt. Darned Serenex. At the rate she was going, I didn't think I would ever get off. I didn't want to, because it might end this.

Suddenly, it ended. My eyes opened, and there was Taylor on her way to her feet, two hard nipples dragging up my chest. Then she took away even that - which, um, I wanted, we should not be doing this - only to turn around and pull down her shorts and the pale pink thong she'd worn beneath them. I took a step forward, cock in position, but she was already turning and it only poked her in the hip.

Taylor laughed. "You fucker! You were gonna do me from behind. We can't talk if we can't look at each other. Plus this crap has me feeling like such an obedient little bitch that if you try to do me doggy style I might start barkin'."

She, or maybe I, guided my bare ass down into my desk chair. Luckily the arms of my desk chair could be folded out of the way, because Taylor sidled up over my waiting prong. Her hand gripped my shaft, slick with her own drool, and eased it into the entrance, and then she plunged down onto my lap in one go.

"Sorry, muscles super don't wanna cooperate. Gonna have to take it easy this time."

I was sitting at my desk with my pants and underwear around my ankles. I was steel hard, and balls deep in the cunt of Taylor Stern, a student, one whom my boss believed (correctly) that I'd had a sexual relationship with her younger sister. And I didn't have the strength to stop us.

"I still have words for you. You can't stop me from speaking."

"No, of course not. Wouldn't dream of it."

Then, as her formal education drew to a close, she began to fuck me. With her arms draped around my neck, nothing had to move but her hips. It was far less stimulation than if I'd been able to give her proper thrusts, but the girl had wide and flexible hips. She wriggled them in slow circles, eyelids lowering.

"Yes, yes, you're very charming, but this doesn't change the point I was making."

"Which was that you find me irresistible?"

"Because you gave me a drug that makes me unable to resist anything," I retorted. It was less intense than the blowjob, and lacked the enticing perversion of her brief submission, and "And my point was that whatever your childhood was like, that doesn't excuse what you've been doing since this all started. That is what I'm trying to say, Taylor."

"Like what? Getting you pussy? Protecting myself? Protectingyou?" She plucked her hair back over her shoulders. She knew how I liked an unobstructed view of those things.

"Protecting me? Taylor, you lied to me. You lied to me so much I'm not even sure I fully comprehend the scope of it all."

"So ask me." She tousled the back of my hair. "And touch me, if you want. You know you missed this bitch."

I did not indulge her. "Was Abbie really your henchman this whole time?"

She licked her lips, nodded. I'd been licking mine, too, I realized. "Since day one. No, day two. Day one was just you and me. Remember?"

"I remember." Was she rubbing her tits on my chest like that on purpose, or was that an inevitable feature of this lap dance style of sex? "Why, though? Why make your own sister your fall guy? Why deceive me about it?"

"For Abbie, 'cause she owed me. I've been her bottom bitch plenty of times before. Plus, once we accidentally did that whole sex object T&A lucky to have you thing to her, there was no keeping her out of it. So I made a role for her, and figured if you got pissed, you'd be pissed at her and not me."

"I've been pissed at you a thousand times, Taylor. Me being pissed at you is what started all this."

"You wanting to fuck me is what started all this," she countered. "You remember? You'd stolen my chapstick, and I threw myself at you? I wanted to see what riding you felt like. Or maybe just get in your head. I dunno. But it was right like this, except we had all those stupid clothes on. Remember?" She ran her hands down my arms, stretching them backward. It was eerily like her effort to pry her property out of my hand the day when I'd caught her plagiarizing that essay.

"You know I remember. But you can't fuck your way out of this, Taylor."

Taylor shifted to a front to back maneuver. With every forward movement, her tits squashed against my chest, her lips separated from mine only by our breath. "What else? You said you got questions, and you asked one so far. What else got you so worked up you drove out to my house in the middle of the day to drug me into taking your stupid final?"

Right. Questions. She'd have a harder time lying to me while she built up an orgasm - she always came way before I did when we fucked - and likewise under the influence. This was my chance to get answers. "What else did you put in my head? The don't be a pussy thing, that Abbie could use my Serenex and I couldn't use it on her. What else is in my head that I haven't realized?"

"Why do you think there's more?"

"Because I've seen what all else you've done. Do I really have to name all the times you've-"

She giggled. "All right, all right, I'll grant you that one. To you, though? Nothing. That first night at your house, just the stuff you said. That night at Barbie's place, when we got you again? Then I wanted to do some stuff. Really wanted to. You can thank Abbie for talking me out of it, though."

"What did you want to do?"

Her pace slowed, and after a moment stopped altogether, no more sensation except my dick throbbing idly against her cunt. "I was... upset. Could've done some bad shit."

I'd actually expected her to say something halfway sweet about making me obsess over her, or something less comforting like a compulsion to obey her, like she'd done with Abbie and Tabitha. Perhaps even that she'd thought of using me to get all that coursework done, the small mountain of it that I'd compiled on behalf of the rest of her teachers. She'd clearly not done that, though; I'd thrown every last bit of it away. So to hear what was almost a threat instead was perplexing, and a bit chilling.

"Why? I read your essay. I get that you have a chip on your shoulder about authority figures like cops and teachers. That's no reason to lash out at someone, though."

She rolled her eyes. "You would be trying to talk about essays and Emerson while I'm fucking you."

"All right. So why, then? Just because I was going to pardon Candy and Isa-"

"Because younever pardoned me!" She snapped, her voice a fierce whisper. I felt its air on my lips. She winced immediately. "Sorry. Fuck, hard to stop myself from bitching out right now. We're back on our battlefield and all, so... old habits. But shit, dawg, you been riding my ass for two years, and I don't just mean with your dick. Every little thing that grinds your gears, you're on me about it. 'Taylor, stop talking.' 'Taylor, take your seat.' 'Language, Taylor!' But those two bitches almost cut off your nuts -my nuts - and you're like nah, whatevs, it's cool. What made those two cunts so goddamn special?"

Leave it to Taylor Stern to take an interrogation about her own misdeeds and spin it into a plea for more attention. Still, there was a look in her eyes I hadn't seen before. Maybe once, that lazy Sunday afternoon. It could be the Serenex, but no. No, it took more than military grade chemical weapons to make Taylor Stern look... vulnerable.

"Taylor... I don't hold them to that standard because I just..." I sighed, my hands sliding to her bare hips unbidden. "I honestly don't care what happens to their futures. That sounds harsher than I mean it. Icare, but it's not my job to care about them."

She sat up, indignantly, triggering a chain reaction of appeasement. Her posture made her pussy grinded on my cock; my cock twitched in her pussy; she realized she had stimulated me; she gazed into my eyes to confirm I had liked it; it would be rude not to acknowledge it; we were fucking again. Or maybe she simply remembered friction felt good. Either way, it resumed in the drawing of a breath.

"What? That's all it is? Your stupid little job?" she demanded.

I gave her ass a pat with just enough force for it to be clear it was meant as a smack. "No. Of course not. Yes, you're a giant pain in my ass, and yes, you've made that job a lot harder sometimes. But I still care about what happens to you. You're eighteen years old, have your whole life ahead of you. High school may not be the place for you, but I want you to be ready when you find someplace that is. To take it by the reins and get what you want out of life."