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Bad Teacher

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“Well, Chris, do you know why I called you up here?" you frowned.

You peered at the brunette over your glasses. He was sitting in the chair on the other side of your desk, dressed in what all douchey college frat boys wear: a snapback and a questionably stained hoodie with washed out jeans. His bearded smirk was dripping with cockiness and his eyes were glued to the bit of cleavage poking out from your dark red blouse. You pretended like you were long suffering and sighed deeply, slowly standing up to reveal your outfit to your husband.

You, obviously, had on your favorite short sleeve blouse that you left the top three buttons undone on with a black, high waisted skirt that you found to be too short and tight to be appropriate in your actual lecture classes, but had to buy after the what your husband did to you in it when you tried it on. Only he could get into a fitting room without question.

You pulled your hair into a high ponytail and had on your real, necessary glasses, but put them on that old fashioned chain stereotypical librarians have just to make it that much more convincing.

“Christopher, are you listening to me?" you asked.

Chris nodded, now taking in the rest of what he could see of your body. Your eyes narrowed as you sat back down and folded your arms over your chest. His face went to genuine irritation for a split second and your mouth curled up. This was his fantasy, but you were the one acting it out.

“Why don't you tell me why I held you back after class then?"

He pretended to think about it while you took your hair down and let fall to your shoulders. Chris started staring again, tracing the curve of your neck and licking his lips, while you raked your fingers through your straightened chocolate colored strands. You raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, pushing your chest up as much as possible.

“I asked you a question, Christopher," you said.

“I was being disrespectful," he answered immediately.

“Disrespectful, how?"

You struggled to keep your face straight as he shifted in his chair to hide his growing arousal. Just to make it worse, you started to play with the buttons on your shirt, revealing a bit of the lingerie you had on. He flushed deeply and started to stutter.

“I-I called you names a-a-and wouldn't stop...talkin'........." 

His breathing picked up significantly, as you came out entirely from behind your desk and saw your fishnet thigh highs with your golden platform pumps. You picked them out especially for him after he showed you how much it turned him on seeing you in just your black work heels. You put your hands on his thighs and leaned in so close you could count his eyelashes and ghosted over his lips with your deep red ones.

“That's right, and I can't tolerate it, Christopher. You know that."

On your desk sat the ruler you used as a pointer during lectures. You picked it up and traced down from his cheek to over the bulge in his blue jeans. Chris' breath hitched at the contact on the third pass, so of course you took it away. He groaned in annoyance and you put your hand on your heart in fake remorse.

“I am sorry, Christopher," you apologized, “I don't know what's coming over me..."

“It's okay, ma'am," he smirked, “I won't say anything."

“Well, just the same-oops!" 

You “accidentally" dropped your ruler and had to bend over to pick it up, taking special care to give your husband a good view of your barely covered butt. 

“Fuck, Dr. Evans!" he growled, “Fuck this, I need you now."

Your body heated up as you heard him shifting to undo his jeans. You loved what you did to him and even more what he could do to you. Usually, you let him take control by this point in his fantasies, but today you weren't giving in that easily. So you smacked his hand with your stick when he went for his zipper.

“Language, Chris," you scolded, sitting down on top of your desk and crossing your legs, “And I'm very disappointed in you!"

He whined a bit and rubbed the angry red spot on his hand. Out of concern you almost broke character, but, Chris, kept going by grabbing your hand and kissing it.

“I'm real sorry, ma'am,"  he apologized, kissing further and further up your arm, “What can I do to make it up to you?"

He was now standing as close as possible, his husky voice and dilated blue eyes were dripping with lust. You pretended like his sweet talk was falling on deaf ears by sitting him back down and standing up again to walk around him.

Honestly, you were both making this up as you went along so you needed a moment. Finally, you decided on having him take care of the wet heat growing underneath your skirt. Chris sighed gratefully when you came back around to the front of him, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. 

“What do you think I should do with you?"

You leaned on your desk, putting a foot on his raging hard on and starting rubbing against it. He in turn started groaning and pleading to just let him fuck you already, before he came in his pants like some horny teenage boy, but you were carrying this to the end.

“What kind of woman do you-no no!"

You smacked his hand with your ruler again as he tried to peek up your skirt and removed your foot from his crotch. He whined in protest, but you leaned in again, kissing his neck and replacing your foot with your hand.

“I let you get away with too much too long, Christopher," you whispered, “I have to be firm, I have to punish you now."

“Yes, ma'am," he begged, “Anything you want, Dr. Evans!"

He moved to push you in for a real kiss, but you quickly sat back down on your desk. Before he could complain, you pulled his chair in and hiked up your skirt. 

“Start making it up to me! And hands up on my thighs!"

“Y-yes, ma'am..."

He immediately went to work, burying his face between your legs and squeezing your thighs tight so you could make sure he wasn't touching himself. It wasn't time for his job well done reward yet.

He started out with long, slow, teasing licks, but soon picked up the pace at the sounds of your moaning. You gripped his hair tight and pushed his face in closer when he started fucking you with his tongue. Your legs wrapped around him, digging into his back with your heels. Some how he was able to take a breather and looked up sinfully at you, his mouth shining with your wetness.

“You taste so good, ma'am," he groaned, “Can I make you come like this? Please?"

“Sure, yes!" you consented, “Just get to it!"

He continued his previous ministrations and soon you felt a familiar coil tightening in your core again. You started whining for him and you could feel his arrogant smirk. He loved taking you apart like this.

“Chris-I'm gonna-oh baby yes!"

The spring snapped and you felt your pleasure wash over you. You rode it out hard against your husband's mouth, knowing damn well you'll be feeling his beard burn in the next ten minutes, but it was always so worth it. Chris kept his tongue still and let you move against him as you pleased until you settled.

“Good?" he asked.

“It's a start," you sighed.

Chris made an expression and a noise of offense and you laughed at his adorableness as you started unbuttoning your blouse.

“You didn't think I'd let you off that easy did you?"

“I was hoping-oh, Dr. Evans, I'm gonna ruin you..." he promised.

He was gripping the arms of his chair tight in his efforts to behave, but now that you were stripped, you knew you were testing the limits of his self control.

You had thrown your shirt over his face and he moved it just in time to watch you shimmy out of your skirt. You stood before him in your devil red lacy bra and panties along with your stockings and heels. His hand traveled back to his painfully hard crotch, but you raised your ruler again and it went back to his side.

“Good boy," you praised.

You took your glasses off and set them on the desk before straddling your husband. You put your hands on his so he couldn't touch you. 

“I think you deserve this, Christopher, after all the names you called me," you teased.

You slid your hands under his hoodie to take it off and rake your nails torturously slow over his perfectly defined muscles. 

“Whore, slut...daddy's little skank?"

Chris' hips involuntarily jerked up and you had to hold on, causing him to get a face full of your chest. He started kissing, nipping, and moaning like a starved man, so you took his shaking hands and put them behind your back, directing him to take off your bra. He did so in record time, and immediately after, you put his hands back on the chair. He all but growled at you, but you quickly moved his head to bury his face in your chest again. 

“I wanna let you go, Christopher. Clean your slate, have you pass, and move on," you gasped as he left love bites all over your neck and sucked on your breasts, “But I need to know that you learned your lesson...."

“I have, ma'am! Just let me take care of you! I wanna make you feel so good, sugar..."

He gave you his signature smile and you knew he thought had you. Once he brings out your pet name everything is in his control. Well, not today. 

You jumped out of his lap one more time and his confidence quickly changed to confusion.

“Take off your pants," you ordered.


“Yes, and make it quick before I-!"

You didn't even see him do it before he was all over you with his hands and mouth. You really wanted to give in and let your husband give you pleasure out of this world, especially now that you could feel just how close he was to his own end but you weren't quite done yet. You smacked his naked butt with your ruler.

“Christopher Robert, sit down!"

He immediately did as he was told and you stood over him ruler in hand.

“Did I say you could touch me?" you barked.

“No, ma'am. I'm sorry, you're just so beautiful. Your husband is a lucky guy."

He eyed your five year old wedding ring and you knew you'd blush if you could. You frowned, knowing that you couldn't let his smooth words get to you.

“I see it as the other way around, but that's neither here nor there, Christopher."

You took off your underwear, knowing that your husband would tear them off of you as soon as you let him go. Now, you were completely bare not counting your stockings and heels and, Chris, looked about ready to explode with sexual frustration as you sat back down legs crossed on your desk. You sneered at him, only slightly nervous that you were about to go too far.

“Beg for me, Christopher. Beg to fuck my dirty whore mouth, to pound my wet, tight cunt, to come all over me, for me to come for you! Maybe then I'll think about letting you go."

“Ma'am, please."

“I didn't quite hear that," you mocked.

That's when your husband did the unexpected. He got down on his knees in front of you and kissed your ankles.

“Dr. Evans, please? Please let me fuck you!"

You pretended to think about it while slowly opening your legs up. Eventually, you smiled down at your bright red husband.

“I suppose-," you started.

You didn't get to finish because, Chris immediately stood up, grabbed your hips, and thrusted into you. He didn't even give you the chance to adjust to the sudden intrusion before starting to fuck you mercilessly, climbing onto your desk so he could roughly kiss you and get a better angle into your womanhood.

“You little slut! It's fuckin' torture watchin' your beautiful body all on display for me with these goddamn heels, but I can't touch..."

You started whining out praise as he picked up the pace and the heat kept building between you two, but he then he decided to keep you on the edge of your climax. He kept bringing you up just to knock it back down. You growled at him, but he just smiled that infuriating smirk you always wanted to punch off his face whenever he took control any situation.

“What's the matter, sugar? You wanna come again?" he teased.

“Yes! Yes, Christopher, please!"

You groaned at the way he smiled like a Cheshire cat at the way you were now begging for him and stopped moving. 

“Chris, what-."

Suddenly, he picked you up and slammed you front first just enough to hurt, but not injure you into your chalkboard. You could feel his wet length teasing your entrance as he gripped your hair and pulled your head back, making his bright blue-grey eyes meet your dark brown ones. 

“You wanna come? You gotta earn it, Dr. Evans, same as me..."

He thrust into you again, pinning your body to the wall with his. He brought his lips so close to your ear that every word made them brush across it.

“Scream for me, (Y/N). I want this whole fuckin' campus to know who their best professor belongs to..."

With that he started building up his rough and hard rhythm again, whispering about how unbelievably sexy you are, how good you were to him, how he wants no one but you.

“Chris...I need-oh Chris yes...Baby, YES!" you shouted.

“Louder, sugar! Louder!" he ordered.

You did as you were told at the top of your lungs and, Chris, started cursing up a storm as his movements started to become more erratic. You would be hoarse in tomorrow morning's class, the sizable love bites he was now leaving all over the right side of your neck and shoulder would be impossible to hide, and you'd be feeling the bruising grip he had on your hips for days, but it was so worth bringing out this less than wholesome side of your normally quite the gentleman husband.

You were just coming back to the top when, Chris, pounded the chalkboard with his fist. You looked up and his face was contorted in the effort to last a bit longer and pleasure at the same time. He was gonna come before you, something he hated doing. He always wanted you to be taken care of first.

“I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry," he moaned, “I was more worked up than I just feel so damn good! Immmm..."

You silenced him by pushing his head down for a kiss, something he loved doing when he comes inside you. Of course, was finishing first! You already had one and this was his fantasy!

He came with the loudest moan you ever heard from him muffled by your mouth on his and you knew he was spent, but he kept going as best he could for your sake and his hands traveled down to your clit and up to your breasts. He went to work rubbing and squeezing in all the ways that drove you crazy.

“Come for me," he begged, “I need to see you come for me, baby, please."

“I am, Chris, I am," you promised, “Just keep go-oh-oh Chris, I love you, I love you, baby, YES!"

You finally teetered off your edge and came shaking around your triumphant husband. After you two took a minute to breath, you faced your husband and started laughing.

“This was ridiculous, Chris!" you exclaimed, “I hope they don't decide to check cameras today!

“What's life without a little risk? Besides, you know you enjoyed it, Dr. Evans," he smiled proudly, “Congratulations, again, baby. I got me the smartest, prettiest girl in the world..."

He kissed your ring hand and intertwined it with his as he claimed your lips in loving, gentle kiss. When he let up you smiled gratefully back at him.

“You earned that degree just as I did," you half joked.

It was true. Most of the time he stayed up with you when you studied deep into the night, listened to you give the same dissertation presentation over and over again, made sure you were taking care of your mental health, all even if he was miles away on set. 

“Does that mean that I get to act out one of your fantasies?"

He bit his lip and wiggled his eyebrows. You scoffed and pecked his lips.

“Unless you feel like risking elevator sex in your Captain America costume, no," you smirked.

Chris stared at you for a long time before realising the scene you were talking about. You laughed again while he rolled his eyes and shook his head.