Literature Lesson

Kerry brings Mr. Deloin’s book back. She says she’s read it cover to cover and knows every line. He smiles and wants to hear her prove it. He pulls her onto his lap right there on the classroom couch, slides his hand up under her plaid skirt and grips her bare thigh. She doesn’t pull away. She just parts her legs a little wider, her white knee-socks brushing the edge of the desk. He opens her blouse slowly, pops one button at a time, until her small breasts are free. He sucks each nipple hard, rolling them between his teeth until she gasps. Kerry’s fingers are already at his zipper. She drags his cock out and sinks straight to her knees, takes him into her mouth like she’s been waiting for the moment. Her tongue is hot and flat, sliding up the underside in long, hungry strokes while her skirt rides higher on her hips. When he lifts her onto the desk and pushes inside her, the sounds she makes are soft at first, then sharp. He fucks her deep, steady, holding her ankles in her little white socks so he can watch his cock disappear each time. She grips the desk edge, back arching, uniform half-off and rumpled. He pulls out at the end, strokes once, twice, and paints her open mouth and flushed cheeks with thick, hot ropes that drip down onto the stiff white collar of her shirt.