l'enseignant [1/2]
anonymous
November 6 2009, 01:50:19 UTC
FIRST: I'm sorry there's no actual sex... I just couldn't get there. This is probably so far from what you want lmao .......EITHER WAY perhaps some anon who reads will learn a little French for the road.
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“Non~ that isn’t the right answer, Mademoiselle Kirkland.”
The blond’s lips pursed into a pout as her eyebrows knit together. “But, I can’t possibly mimic your accent. You’re just too bloody French!”
Francis laughed, his hand waving through the air. “Perhaps that is so.” He came to sit on the top of the desk next to the student and smiled that secretive smile of his whenever a grand idea flashed into his mind. His eyes wandered slightly, they couldn’t help it -- his student’s legs were tucked beneath the desk, crossed so daintily at the ankles. The plaid skirt of her uniform gently caressed the top of her creamy thighs.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to scream for help if you don’t stop staring at me like some lecherous old man.”
Dragging his eyes up, he gazed at her face. Average, really. Her long hair hid frightful eyebrows, that he was slightly thankful for and smiled again. “I am not old, Mademoiselle Kirkland, but I do beg your pardon,” he intoned. “Shall we try a different approach?”
The girl shrugged, her eyes quickly flickering over her teacher. He wasn’t necessarily bad looking, but he was a known pervert. How he managed to keep his position at Gilbert Beilschmidt’s Academy for Girls was beyond most of the student body and staff. But, be that as it may, his classes excelled in the French language once they were done. “All right,” she said, shifting towards him. “What could it hurt?”
“Splendid,” he said with a smirk and winked at the girl. “Just follow my lead~”
Francis shifted down to the chair and moved closer to her, mind reeling on which approach to take. When pressed, he knew this girl was trouble. She didn’t seem to like coy, so he would be slightly more direct.
“D’où viens-tu?”
She rolled her eyes. “Eng-- Angleterre. Londres, Angleterre.”
“Bien. Tu aimes le jazz?”
“Non. J’aime boucoup la musique rock.”
His head rested in the palm of his hand, a slight cocky smirk on his face. “Est-ce que tu es libre ce soir?”
“…Excuse me?”
“Ah~ ah~ en français s'il vous plaît.”
“Excuse-freakin’-moi?”
Again he repeated: “Est-ce que tu es libre ce soir?”
“…Peut-être”
“T’es trop sexy.”
“Va voir ailleurs si j’y suis.”
His eyebrow rose. “That’s a little advanced for you, isn’t it?”
A rather smug look settled on the girl’s face. “A student of yours from last year told me to memorize it.”
“Touché. All right, we‘ll try something else.” Francis knelt on the floor in front of her and placed his hand gently on her foot. “This?”
Her expression ran from annoyed, to confused and back again. “L- …le pied.”
His fingers circled loosely around her ankle. “Here?”
“La cheville.”
The flat of his palm slid up the back of her calf. “Le mollet.”
Slowly, slowly it moved around to rest on her knee, his thumb just barely moving up and down. “Here?”
Her breath caught in the back of her throat. “Le… …le genou.”
l'enseignant [2/2]
anonymous
November 6 2009, 01:51:43 UTC
Francis’s eyes locked on hers. The looked that crossed the girl’s face this time was rather defiant, as if to dare him to go further. Well, he never was one to not oblige a lady. Again, his hand traveled further to just underneath her skirt, obviously rubbing the smooth skin of her thigh. “Here~?”
A shuddering breath left her lips before she seemed to snap herself out of it and looked away. “La cuisse.”
He did not fail to take notice she hadn’t kicked him where it would hurt the most yet, so he stayed there for a few more lingering moments before extracting his hand and taking hold of one of hers. It was much smaller than his own. Softer too… and he definitely found himself thinking dirty things. Francis eased himself back into the chair, sitting just slightly behind her.
The girl’s arm was stretched out as he bent in leaving a feather light press of lips against her shoulder that she felt through her polo shirt. “This?”
A scowl darkened her features, but again, she didn’t pull away. “L’épaule.”
This time, his hand traveled down her arm and lightly tapped her elbow into a bend as he again pressed his lips, though this time against skin. She jumped a little, but refused to look at him. He didn’t even have to ask before a choked utter of “Le coude” fell from her lips.
He moved further down, her arm falling slack as he kissed the sensitive part of her wrist.
“Le… le… poignet.”
Her fingers were grasped lightly as he fell into the roll of ‘gentleman’ and kissed the back of her hand.
“La main.”
A single finger was brought to his lips before he took the digit inside, playfully licking the pad. She made a shocked noise and shifted in her seat.
“Le doigt! S-stop that, Monsieur Bonnefoy!” she yelped, jerking her hand back.
He just smiled and leaned forward, placing a kiss on her cheek.
She did not respond for a few, long moments. “…la joue.”
And closer still did he move in, tilting his head so his breath just barely danced across her neck while his fingers trailed along the other side. She became rigid. His tongue darted out to lick a spot of skin and she clenched her fists as well as her teeth. “Le cou,” she bit out before turning quickly and slapping him across the face.
Francis said nothing, just pressed his hand to his cheek. This wasn’t a first for him, and by the grace of God would probably not be close to his last.
“Bloody git!” she hissed, as her breath came out in soft puffs of air. A long silence stretched out and just as he was about to apologize for perhaps stepping over a boundary, she spoke up again. “How dare you skip over my mouth and do it all out of order!”
He was taken aback, but laughed at her tenacity. “En français s'il vous plaît.”
She glared at him and pointed at her lips. “La bouche!”
I feel bad for having grinned like an old pervert while reading this. But it was brilliant! Seriously, sex would've ruined it for me. That's exactly what I wanted! Thank you ♥ I like your style, authorAnon!
Re: l'enseignant [2/2]
anonymous
November 6 2009, 13:58:46 UTC
This is brilliant, anon. You got the student-teacher dynamic down perfectly while keeping them so in character, and the sensuality that oozes from this fic (or maybe just Francis) is just unf. Yes. This was wonderful ♥
Thank you! Student/Teacher is one of my biggest kinks s-so I had to attempt it It's good the sensuality wasn't lost, I was concerned about it coming off way too cheesy.
Re: l'enseignant [2/2]
anonymous
December 13 2009, 10:23:17 UTC
Loved it. <33 But, to be a little bit nitpicky when France asked her to say it in French, he should've said s'il te plaît as he's adressing her with the informal tu. But that's... beside the point, I enjoyed your fill nonetheless. Thank you, anon. ♥
-----
“Non~ that isn’t the right answer, Mademoiselle Kirkland.”
The blond’s lips pursed into a pout as her eyebrows knit together. “But, I can’t possibly mimic your accent. You’re just too bloody French!”
Francis laughed, his hand waving through the air. “Perhaps that is so.” He came to sit on the top of the desk next to the student and smiled that secretive smile of his whenever a grand idea flashed into his mind. His eyes wandered slightly, they couldn’t help it -- his student’s legs were tucked beneath the desk, crossed so daintily at the ankles. The plaid skirt of her uniform gently caressed the top of her creamy thighs.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to scream for help if you don’t stop staring at me like some lecherous old man.”
Dragging his eyes up, he gazed at her face. Average, really. Her long hair hid frightful eyebrows, that he was slightly thankful for and smiled again. “I am not old, Mademoiselle Kirkland, but I do beg your pardon,” he intoned. “Shall we try a different approach?”
The girl shrugged, her eyes quickly flickering over her teacher. He wasn’t necessarily bad looking, but he was a known pervert. How he managed to keep his position at Gilbert Beilschmidt’s Academy for Girls was beyond most of the student body and staff. But, be that as it may, his classes excelled in the French language once they were done. “All right,” she said, shifting towards him. “What could it hurt?”
“Splendid,” he said with a smirk and winked at the girl. “Just follow my lead~”
Francis shifted down to the chair and moved closer to her, mind reeling on which approach to take. When pressed, he knew this girl was trouble. She didn’t seem to like coy, so he would be slightly more direct.
“D’où viens-tu?”
She rolled her eyes. “Eng-- Angleterre. Londres, Angleterre.”
“Bien. Tu aimes le jazz?”
“Non. J’aime boucoup la musique rock.”
His head rested in the palm of his hand, a slight cocky smirk on his face. “Est-ce que tu es libre ce soir?”
“…Excuse me?”
“Ah~ ah~ en français s'il vous plaît.”
“Excuse-freakin’-moi?”
Again he repeated: “Est-ce que tu es libre ce soir?”
“…Peut-être”
“T’es trop sexy.”
“Va voir ailleurs si j’y suis.”
His eyebrow rose. “That’s a little advanced for you, isn’t it?”
A rather smug look settled on the girl’s face. “A student of yours from last year told me to memorize it.”
“Touché. All right, we‘ll try something else.” Francis knelt on the floor in front of her and placed his hand gently on her foot. “This?”
Her expression ran from annoyed, to confused and back again. “L- …le pied.”
His fingers circled loosely around her ankle. “Here?”
“La cheville.”
The flat of his palm slid up the back of her calf. “Le mollet.”
Slowly, slowly it moved around to rest on her knee, his thumb just barely moving up and down. “Here?”
Her breath caught in the back of her throat. “Le… …le genou.”
Reply
A shuddering breath left her lips before she seemed to snap herself out of it and looked away. “La cuisse.”
He did not fail to take notice she hadn’t kicked him where it would hurt the most yet, so he stayed there for a few more lingering moments before extracting his hand and taking hold of one of hers. It was much smaller than his own. Softer too… and he definitely found himself thinking dirty things. Francis eased himself back into the chair, sitting just slightly behind her.
The girl’s arm was stretched out as he bent in leaving a feather light press of lips against her shoulder that she felt through her polo shirt. “This?”
A scowl darkened her features, but again, she didn’t pull away. “L’épaule.”
This time, his hand traveled down her arm and lightly tapped her elbow into a bend as he again pressed his lips, though this time against skin. She jumped a little, but refused to look at him. He didn’t even have to ask before a choked utter of “Le coude” fell from her lips.
He moved further down, her arm falling slack as he kissed the sensitive part of her wrist.
“Le… le… poignet.”
Her fingers were grasped lightly as he fell into the roll of ‘gentleman’ and kissed the back of her hand.
“La main.”
A single finger was brought to his lips before he took the digit inside, playfully licking the pad. She made a shocked noise and shifted in her seat.
“Le doigt! S-stop that, Monsieur Bonnefoy!” she yelped, jerking her hand back.
He just smiled and leaned forward, placing a kiss on her cheek.
She did not respond for a few, long moments. “…la joue.”
And closer still did he move in, tilting his head so his breath just barely danced across her neck while his fingers trailed along the other side. She became rigid. His tongue darted out to lick a spot of skin and she clenched her fists as well as her teeth. “Le cou,” she bit out before turning quickly and slapping him across the face.
Francis said nothing, just pressed his hand to his cheek. This wasn’t a first for him, and by the grace of God would probably not be close to his last.
“Bloody git!” she hissed, as her breath came out in soft puffs of air. A long silence stretched out and just as he was about to apologize for perhaps stepping over a boundary, she spoke up again. “How dare you skip over my mouth and do it all out of order!”
He was taken aback, but laughed at her tenacity. “En français s'il vous plaît.”
She glared at him and pointed at her lips. “La bouche!”
Reply
That was amazing anon, hot even without the sex! ♥
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I feel bad for having grinned like an old pervert while reading this. But it was brilliant! Seriously, sex would've ruined it for me. That's exactly what I wanted! Thank you ♥
I like your style, authorAnon!
and, wow, I know some French now \o/
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recaptcha: vous klutzy
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