Professor Hunny Bunny and his Xiah Playmate 1/2
Title: Professor Hunny Bunny and his Xiah Playmate 1/2
Pairing: Junsu/Yunho
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Oh man, the things I'd do if they were mine to play with.
Summary: I work for Playmates on Call, an online escort service. Okay, so we're prostitutes, but I make a lot of money, and it's the money I need. I've been doing this for almost two years, and not much can surprise me. Until my next client ends up being one of the last people I would ever expect.
Warning: Teacher/Student. Junsu is in High School, BUT he's 19, for reasons that I won't spoil. Bondage, watersports, bit of cross dressing, humiliation and bdsm fun times
A/N: Yeah, so my paper ... I wrote this instead.
Part 1:
Warning: Teacher/Student. Junsu is in High School, BUT he's 19, for reasons that I won't spoil. Bondage, watersports, bit of cross dressing, humiliation and bdsm fun times
In case you need to listen to sex in song form:
The first time I see Professor Jung outside of class, he is naked, blindfolded and kneeling in the middle of his living room.
It takes me a minute (or six) to a: process the fact that my Math teacher is naked, b: process the fact that my Math teacher hired a stranger to abuse him, and c: I am about to abuse, fuck, and play with my naked Math teacher.
I lick my lips.
Professor Jung whimpers in the silence.
No, not Professor Jung. Not in this environment. In this environment he is Hunny Bunny. His choice of a name, not mine.
I wonder if he’ll recognize my voice.
Fuck. I contemplate leaving; the ultimate shaming insult to the man on his hands and knees is not being desirable enough. I can. It’s in the agreement that he signed that if I don’t find him desirable, I am allowed to leave. It’s also in the contract that if I know my client, I have to leave.
But give up a chance to fuck around with the hottest teacher in school? No fucking way.
I lower my voice and say, “Two rules.”
He flinches like I smacked him, but he also inhales deeply in relief.
“You are not allowed to look at me. You will remain blindfolded through the night. And if it does fall off, you will shut your damn eyes. Pretty you may be, but a little shit like you has to earn the right to see me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Xiah.”
I shiver. Never has my alias sounded so sweet, whispered so thankfully and pure, from someone’s lips. His voice is already dripping with need. God, what if he says my real name in that voice? I might just come. My erection is pressed tightly against my black leather pants, and I’m sure I could rub one off with that tone of voice in my memory and his sexy body ready for me to hurt it.
“Second rule,” I say, not having to deepen my voice this time. The lust did that. “You can touch me, but you have to ask permission. If I say no, then I say no.”
He nodded.
“Safe word?”
“Quadratic.”
I snort before I can stop myself. His cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. And I fuel it along, because I fucking can.
“Not what I was expecting. You much be such a geek. Can’t pull your head away from math enough to get a proper lover, so you have to be an internet slut.”
His arms are shaking, head lowered between them. The skin on his neck is red. I walk to him, the heel of my boots hitting sharply on the wooden floor. I’m a little mad that he can’t look at me, because I am dressed like a fucking sex god. Usually am on these trips. The tight black leather pants are tucked into boots with buckles up the front. The black, knitted shirt is snug around my waist, the collar artfully torn to show off the curve of my neck and collarbones. The short leather jacket accentuates my shoulders, and the spiked collar on my neck just adds that flair of give me. I dress in clothes that make me seem like the weak one, the victim, the bottom.
Too bad Professor Jung will not be able to appreciate it.
I circle him, mouth going dry. Professor Jung is the hottest teacher in school. He’s over 180 centimeters. His suits fit him snugly, showing off a body he still takes care of. He never tells students his age, but enough have looked it up that I know he’s thirty-nine. Single. None of us knew why he was single; and the female teachers are always swooning over him as much as the students are.
Makes sense to me now.
I let my fingers trail along his side. The first touch. He jerks, breath leaving his mouth harshly. His skin is already damp with sweat.
“Hunny Bunny,” I say softly, fingers on his tailbone. “Such a cute name.”
Standing next to him, I bring my hand back and slap his ass. The muscle jiggles, he gasps, entire body tensing. His skin turns pink for a moment, and then fades. I spank him again. A little harder. With a smirk, I add one more with a mental, “That’s for the B+ on the last test”. I was mad at myself for a stupid mistake of not carrying over a negative screwed up one problem. I’d been one point from an A.
I spank him one more time, on the other cheek.
Hunny Bunny’s profile says that he’s up for almost anything. The few things he does not want are blood, hot wax and full bondage. He does not mind being restrained and tied up and gagged and blindfolded, but nothing completely restraining.
Oh, the options.
I walk around to the front of him. Jerking it around so he can hear the buckle clinking, I remove my belt. His breath speeds up.
I wrap it around his neck. “You need a leash,” I say, pulling the belt tightly. He swallows around it, stretching. I wind the length of it around my hand and yank his head up. His mouth is open, breath harsh through his wet lips.
God, I want to look in his eyes. I want him to know who I am.
He licks his lips.
Oh god, I want to kiss him.
I shut my eyes, head back. Should I break a rule? My own rule. My first rule. How many times have I lost the train of Professor Jung’s lectures because I’m dreaming about kissing him? I open my eyes. Professor Jung is waiting for something. I run my fingers over his lips. They part, a tongue reaching out, and rules are meant to be broken, right?
I lean down with a small moan and capture that lower lip between mine. He whimpers, but does not protest or jerk away. He meets the kiss eagerly. When was the last time he was properly kissed? He’s practically starved for attention.
I kneel in front of him, cup his cheek and tilt his head so I can deepen the kiss. His whimpers increase and he’s shivering under the treatment.
“Such a good bunny,” I mutter into his mouth, loving the flush on his cheeks. “Your mouth is beautiful. Lips so pliant and needy.” I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I want to see how beautiful they are wrapped around my cock.”
He whimpers again, licking his lips, and mine, and I kiss him for a moment longer, before whispering, “Go get my cock, you beautiful slut.”
With an eager whine, he shifts to put weight on his knees. His hands land on my thighs, squeezing. He moans in appreciation and moves them up, catching fingers on the patterns of leather diamonds. I keep kissing him, biting at his lips in between shoving my tongue in his throat. I’m so fucking hard, and I’ll probably embarrass myself, because Professor Jung is about to fucking suck on my dick.
His fingers shake a the top of my pants, eager to touch, and I let him. With a hand on his wrist, I push his hand under the knit shirt, and he moans, fingers mapping the curves of my stomach. When I say nothing, he goes higher, nails light over my skin, to my nipples. I moan in appreciation, deepen the kiss and find myself going back, lowering to the floor, with him over me. His body heat is intoxicating.
“Pants, Hunny Bunny.”
He flushes, and apologizes softly. His hands go back down my stomach, fingers going by feel to get to the top of my pants again. I lean back on my elbows and watch him. He’s shivering in need, and I can’t wait to touch him. Really touch him. His fingers fumble with the series of buttons. I am not wearing anything under them, and he jerks when he touches my dick. But it spurs him on and in a moment, the pants are undone and my cock is out.
He stops, and I bite back a harsh reprimand. We are not lovers, I remind myself, and I am in charge. He needs permission first. I run my hand up to his head, twist his hair and push his head down.
“Suck my dick, horny bunny.”
His mouth opens around the shaft. He moans, sliding his mouth up to the crown. He runs his tongue along the ridge and then turns his head, wincing from the pull of my fingers. His lips close around the soft head, and with a soft suck, the tip of me is in his mouth, and we both moan. He takes half of me and then goes back up, tongue swirling around the crown for a moment before doing it again. Deeper.
My dick isn’t long enough to do a Monster Cock porn, but it’s long enough to be proud of, and wide. Professor Jung’s lips are stretched around it, wet and red.
“God, I knew those lips would be pretty on my dick.”
His cheeks flush further and he goes faster, bobbing his head. I use both hands to pull his hair, slam his head down and jerk my hips up. He takes the rough treatment easily, and the muscles of his throat are massaging me, tightening, playing, teasing.
Fucking bastard is amazing at this. And I’m losing control.
“Such a cock whore,” I mutter and push him away.
He whines before he can stop himself, mouth reaching for my cock again. I slap him roughly, and his head lowers with a pliant whimper. I get back on my knees, yank his head down and let him take my cock back in his mouth. I thrust into his mouth, and feel him gag just once before his entire mouth and even his throat relax. His face is pressed against my stomach in no time, and I thrust faster.
I want his voice hoarse in class tomorrow.
I want to see his fucking eyes.
I want to fucking come down his throat. Or all over his face. Or both.
“Fuck, Pr--” I stop myself just in time, and he makes no indication that he even heard me. I yank away, orgasm shooting through me. I aim at his face, and he takes the first splash on his cheek, and his mouth opens with an eager whine. Another splash lands on his lips and then I shove my dick back in his mouth and finish coming with him swallowing eagerly around me.
I pull away enough to roll the head of my dick around his lips. With a squeeze and a moan, a pearl of come pulses from the tip and I wipe it on his cheek.
“Such a cock slut,” I repeat.
“Thank you for letting me have your come, Xiah,” he whispers.
I shiver and my dick twitches. “Head to the floor, Bunny Slut. You did such a good job that now you get a reward.”
“Thank you, Xiah,” he says and immediately puts his head to the floor, face turned, cheek pressed against the hardwood. I move to the side and put his hands behind his back. He follows my lead and grasps his hands at his lower back. I take the belt, yank on it so it’s tight around his neck and tie his hands with it. The muscles in his arms and back tense, and then relax.
I stand up and move away from him. My hand wraps around my dick, stroking slowly, and think about his reward. His profile says that he doesn’t care what kind of things I do to him. Just that I do them to him. Control him and abuse him. So far the abuse hasn’t been much beyond a few spankings. I walk behind him and kick his legs open a bit. I slide my finger down his cleft. His shivers when I stop at his entrance. It’s tight, but well, that’s what abuse is for.
“Such a loose whore,” I mutter and flick the opening harshly. “I’m glad I let you suck my cock. You aren’t tight enough to give me an orgasm. I was going to ask what work you do, but I can see now. A big a prostitute, sell your gaping hole to whoever is desperate enough to fuck it.”
Professor Jung whined, but said nothing. His skin was pink with shame and slick with sweat.
“It’s such a shame. After that blowjob, I was expecting better. But since you sucked on my cock so nicely and you have such pretty lips, for now I’ll forget that you’re an eager little slut for everything and everyone, and I’ll reward you.”
I spanked him, hard.
He actually cried out and then snapped his teeth over his bottom lip.
I hit him again and his body jerked forward, face moving on the floor. I wish it were carpet, to give him a pretty red mark on his cheek. I spank him again. Only on one cheek, in the same place, over and over. The skin turns red, and he’s unable to cover his whimpers and cries. It’s beautiful how one cheek is cherry red, the other pale. But they need to match, so without warning him, I switch. I bring my other hand up to my mouth and cover a finger in spit.
Again, I slide my finger down his cleft.
Multitasking is great.
His moans and his knees spread, opening himself up.
“Such an eager whore,” I mutter and press my finger into him. It’s too dry, but he definitely doesn’t seem to care.
I leave my finger inside him and continue spanking him, switching cheeks now and moving lower on his legs.
“You are going to be shifting in your seat tomorrow,” I say.
His body freezes for a moment and then relaxes.
Conversationally, like I don’t have a finger in his ass or that I’m spanking him, I add, “It’s a Tuesday night. I’m assuming you have work tomorrow, yes?”
Professor Jung swallows. “Yes, Xiah,” he manages between whimpers.
“Why do you want this on a day you have to work tomorrow?” I stop spanking him, and he stays tense, expecting a blow, before relaxing. I spit into his cleft and run my finger over the slickened skin before pushing it into him again. I pump slowly.
“Answer the question?”
With a whine, he says, “No one knows. It’s ...”
“You like that no one knows you’re a fucking cock slut? That you want pretty young boys to work you over and fuck you until you’re gaping and open?”
“Yes, fuck, yes, please.”
I shake my head. I want to make him admit that he’s a high school teacher, but I am not allowed to ask such personal questions. Technically, as soon as I saw who my client was, I should have walked out that door. I’m not supposed to know my clients. So the rules don’t really matter.
“And what is your job, Hunny Bunny?”
He pauses for a moment, and then says, “I’m a math teacher.”
“Naughty teacher,” I whisper and lean down and press a kiss to the heated skin of his ass. “Did you enjoy your reward, Professor?” I smile, because now I can call him that. But I have to be careful about my voice. I do not want him to figure out who I am.
“Yes, Xiah. Thank you.”
I pull a small bottle of lube from my pocket and snap open the cap. Shivering in anticipation, Professor Jung’s legs spread further. His hands are clenching together, knuckles white. I pour the lube above my fingers and trail a third through it before pushing it in. Professor Jung whimpers. I grip one sore cheek and pump the three fingers in and out of him, spreading them open and twisting them around. Professor Jung’s body stays still, muscles froze in anticipation. Held in check. He wants to fuck himself on my fingers.
But he’s too well trained to blatantly take control without asking for permission.
I slow my fingers and press in another from my other hand. “I think I can fit my fist into your loose ass. How many things have you had inside yourself at once? How many men do you let fuck you at the same time?”
He whimpers, back arching, fingers flexing.
“Fuck my fingers, Slutty Professor Bunny.”
With an eager noise, he thrusts his hips back and shoots forward, back and forth. Quick. Chaotic. I let him, rubbing my other hand over his red skin. He is shaking so badly after five minutes, probably desperate to come. How long did he wait for me?
“Stop,” I whisper, and he does immediately, his breath panting harshly in the silence.
I slap his hip a few times, satisfied at the faded pink fingerprints. I loosen the belt on his wrists and say, “On your back.”
He collapses with a sigh, and then rolls over, hands above his head. I straddle his waist and sit on his hard, desperate cock. With a smirk, I roll my hips, the leather dragging over the sensitive skin. He moans, hips arching. His arms lift, and then fall.
Voice rough, he gasps, “May I touch you, Xiah?”
“Such a good bunny for remembering,” I croon, and his face heats up with embarrassed satisfaction. “But not now. Later, I promise.”
I will not survive him touching me. Maybe he’ll pass out before then.
“Keep your hands above your head, Hunny Bunny.”
He nods.
The rules state that I have an hour with my client. I’m sure that hour is up. I’m sure Professor Jung has lost track of time.
I snag the bottle of lube from the floor, turn it over and squeeze a bunch on his chest. His skin and muscles jerk at the chill on heated skin. I run my hands through it, over his stomach and up to his chest. Yes, he’s in good shape for his age, but age and a thankless job are catching up on him. I scratch down his sternum and then go back up, tugging on his chest hair enough to pull but not to hurt. I rub his chest, fingers catching on his nipples. He’s still well-built, but hey, I won’t be doing my job if I don’t humiliate the guy.
“Did you know you have breasts?” I ask, cupping one and giving it a firm squeeze.
His cheeks go bright, bright red. Oh, yeah. He knows. And he hates it.
“Saggy breasts and a well-fucked cunt. You really are a piece of over-used street trash.”
I pinch a nipple roughly and pull a cry from his throat. With a chuckle, I splay my hands over both pec muscles and squeeze, before pushing them together.
“Look at this cleavage. Do you wear a bra to support them?”
He whimpers, but says nothing.
“Answer the question, Hunny Bunny,” I demand and pinch both nipples.
“Only--” he gasps, writhing under the abuse.
“Only?” I prompt with a firm tug, lifting the nipple up, so his skin is stretched.
“Only ... oh god, only with ...” His hips rise and he’s rubbing himself on my ass. I think briefly of getting off him, since he does not have permission for that. Instead, I rub his chest harder, press my body down on his and pinch his nipples and the surrounding skin until it’s almost as bright as his cheeks. He whimpers and then his voice catches in the back of his throat, body still, and he shudders through a violent dry orgasm.
He sags to the floor, panting, and then whispers an apology.
“I can’t really expect anything else from such an eager whore,” I say. “Now answer my last question.” I slap his chest, the sore skin stinging pink. He yelps and then takes a deep breath.
“I ... I have skirts, and ...”
Oh my god. Professor Jung in a skirt? My dick throbs. “You don’t wear those to teach, do you?’
“No, no. Just ... just ...”
“Just when you’re hooking it on the street corner?” I pull his nipple really hard.
With a whimper, he nods. “Just ... I like them.”
“Hm. I don’t blame you,” I say and run my hands over his chest. I’m sure there will be bruises around his nipples tomorrow. “The thought of your body in a skirt with bra and panties makes me want to fuck you so hard that you’ll wish you had a vagina to take the beating.” Before he can reply, I squeeze his chest again, cupping it like a breast. I lean down and suck on his sore nipple. He moans and squirms under me. I lap at the hardened nub and then kiss around it, before moving to the other nipple to give it the same soft treatment.
“Xiah, please, may I touch you, please?”
“No.”
He whines and then gasps when I go back to the other nipple. I suck and play with each one until my back hurts from leaning over him. He’s recovered from the teasing orgasm, and he’s rubbing against me again. It takes all my mental capacity to remind myself that I am here to hurt him. He wants me to hurt him.
“I love your breasts,” I mutter into one. His breath hitches with a whine. “So plump and beautiful. Tender.” I bite down, smirking at his sharp cry. I continue and leave teeth imprints all over his chest. I move down and tug at his chest hair with my fingers and leave more bites all down his stomach. It twitches under the treatment. Needing to distance myself again from this man who stars in my fantasies, I push up, squeezing his sore chest one more time and then scoot back to his knees. His cock is bright red, the head swollen and leaking clear fluid. I smile and run my finger along the crown.
“If it wasn’t for this,” I say, “based on your breasts, I’d think you were a woman.”
He takes a deep breath and bites his lip.
I laugh. “You’d make an ugly woman,” I say and run my tongue up his dick just once.
He practically screams, hips arching into it. I smack his side sharply a few times until he stills, face scrunched, focusing on the pain. I move my hand just enough to catch his balls on the next smack and he absolutely screams. It’s a beautiful noise, so I slap them again, and then again. I grab his balls and pull on them roughly, spinning them in my hands and twisting them over and around. His screams have dulled into weak protests.
“Do you want me to stop, Hunny Bunny?”
“Please, fuck please, stop.”
No safeword. I smile and pull his balls roughly toward me. “Why do you want me to stop?”
He screams again, body weaving on the ground. “Hurts, fuck, that ... just, stop please.”
I let his testicles go and he inhales, but before he can relax, I flick one. Hard. His scream echoes around us, but his cock pulses more clear fluid to his stomach. I flick the other one with the same result, and switch between the two of them. His breath is labored, chest hitching like he’s crying, and I really do not want him to say his safeword because then I have to leave. I wrap my hand around the sore balls and give them a squeeze.
“Fine, you weakling. I’ll stop.”
He whimpers an apology.
“But I need my belt.” I pull it from his neck, not gently, and his head smacks on the ground. He whimpers. The belt catches on the blindfold, and displaces it. I hold my breath, but it doesn’t move enough to uncover his eyes. I hastily fix it, and then pat his cheek.
“Do you need a break?” I whisper.
He swallows, and shakes his head. “I’m ... god, I’m ...”
“So turned on that you want me to let you come?”
“Yes, please.”
I chuckle. “Not yet. But when I let you come, it’ll be worth it.”
“I know, Xiah. Thank you.”
I shiver, and want to scream, CALL ME JUNSU! or dongsaeng. That’s definitely wanting too much. Professor Jung is more than twenty years older than I am.
With a huff, I move back further and let the belt trail over his body. I spread his legs and kneel between them. Running my hands from his thighs to his knees, I hum in appreciation. His thighs are amazingly thick. Strong and covered with a dusting of hair.
Jung Yunho is a sexy beast, and I want his cock rocking in and out of my body.
I slap his inner thigh and then push at his knees. “Bend your knees, hold them to your chest.”
His body is weak and quivering, but he does as I ask. His ass is still red, his testicles darker, smashed as they are.
“I have been going easy on you, but it seems like you can take more. Do you want more, Professor Bunny?”
“Please, yes, please. Anything you want.”
I snort. I want to fuck you over my desk at school, is what I want to say. I lift my foot, put my boot where his hands wrists are pressed together and push back, until his weight is on his shoulders. I reach down and pull at his dick so it is on the underside of his thighs, stretched and painful, probably.
Without warning him, I bring the belt down against his ass. It cracks over sore skin and leaves a nice red welt. I add another one just below it. He screams at both, body jerking. I move the belt higher, just missing his balls, and then aim for his thigh. I barely give him time to take breaths between the lashes, and paint his skin in red welts. When one of them splits and starts to bleed, I stop and survey my work. The crisscrosses are beautiful. His skin is covered in sweat and his thighs are shaking hard.
I remove my boot and his body rocks down, ass hitting the floor. He screams again, at the touch of the cool wood on his beaten skin.
Chuckling, I drop to my knees. I pry his hands away from his legs. There are bleeding half moon nail marks on his thighs. I gently spread his legs, and then push behind his knees until they’re level with his head. He moans at the stretch, but does nothing else. Too wired and sore.
With one hand, I grab the bottle of lube and dump the clear fluid over my cock, and then pour some directly on his ass. He whimpers softly, and the furled opening clenches for me. I press two fingers into him for guidance, hold my cock steady and push. He is really too tight.
“Such a loose ... oh fuck ... cunt,” I mutter, breathless as his channel clamps down on me. A fleeting smile dances on his lips and I laugh, totally spoiling the moment. I push deeper, his body sucking me in and then stop, my leather-clad thighs against his ass. It takes me a moment (and a whole lot of deep breaths) before I can move. Professor Jung isn’t the only one that needs to come. I have never played with a client this long.
Finally, I lower my hands to the back of his thighs and use the grip to spread him open a bit more. His ankles rest on my shoulders and I shift my knees before pulling out and thrusting back in. Everything is so tight. My eyes shut, my fingers tighten, and I move faster Just like with the blowjob, I am going to come faster than I want to. Sweat is dripping down my back, soaking through my top and the leather pants are growing more uncomfortable. I don’t dare stop, and speed up, leaning over him. His knees hook at my elbows, and I reach for his lips. His moans and whimpers are swallowed in our kiss. I spread my knees and slow my thrusts, trying to prolong this. Pleasurable greed is spreading through me, tightening my stomach, and forcing the kiss, harder and deeper. Each thrust is punctuated with a sharp cry from him and a little moan from me. He’s so tight, and his body is pulsating around me.
I manage to stave off my orgasm for long enough that I’m not embarrassed, but it’s only because this is the only fucking time I’m going to be able to fuck my math teacher and that thought almost hurts. He’s so precious and needy. I’ve seen so many bottoms and abused and humiliated so many men, but Professor Jung is genuine and pure, and I am no longer making any sense.
And really, he’s way too tight for me to last as long as I want to and I’m only nineteen. I yank my face away from his, thrust into him faster and have to bite my lip against screaming his name. My entire lower body tightens, tenses and then releases as my orgasm rushes through me. I hastily pull out, and with only a single stroke of my hand, I’m coming all over his balls and dick. Strained with pleasure, I push back into him, prolonging the electricity of pleasure as it shoots around my skin. His channel tightens around me, sucking me dry. I sag, and have to catch myself on the floor, with hands by his head. His mouth is open, lips wet and shiny. I run my tongue over his beautiful skin.
“Damn, Hunny,” I whisper and kiss his lower lip. “Warn a guy before you do everything you can to make him come so hard.”
His cheeks heat again. His breath is just as labored as mine, but he manages to say, “Thank you for fucking me, Xiah.”
“Like I didn’t want to the minute I walked through your door.” I run my hand over his cheek and over his lips. “You’re beautiful.”
He smiles, and god, I want to see his eyes.
Instead, I slap his thigh and say, “On your feet.”
“Xiah?”
“Did I stutter, Hunny Bunny? Come on. You’ve been so good. Don’t ruin it.”
With a deep breath, Professor Jung rolls to his knees and then pushes up. He’s shaking so hard that he falls over twice before he can steady himself enough to stand.
“You are so tall,” I whisper and press a kiss to his shoulder to show him how tall I am. I pull the belt back around his neck. There are red marks from earlier. I wrap it around my hand again so it’s nice and tight.
“Stroke yourself.”
He whimpers, but his fingers close around his dick. I watch his hand move slowly. His body is giving up on him.
“Don’t fall,” I warn him and tug on the belt. “You won’t have any give.”
He swallows roughly, and keeps stroking. He can’t come just yet, and I wait a full two minutes before reaching over and stilling his hand long enough to remove the cock ring. He whimpers.
“Keep stroking.”
“Do I have permission to come?” he asks, voice desperate.
“Yes, but not if you fall over. I’ll ring you back up and give you another round with this belt.”
He smiles, all teeth and I swoon a little inside. I love it when I get an answer right in class, just to have that smile pointed at me.
“That isn’t much of an incentive to stay on my feet, Xiah.”
I laugh, and step into him, my arm around his waist. Our lips meet easily, and I push his hand away and use mine. He moans, body shuddering.
“May I touch you now, Xiah?”
“Yes.”
His arms wrap around my shoulders, and his knees quake. I double the effort in our kiss.
“Come, Professor,” I whisper into his lips, “Come all over my hand.”
He breaks the kiss, head dropping back, mouth open. His entire body trembles, and he shifts to the side, almost toppling over. I catch us, and hold him close as he screams and pumps his orgasm into my hand. His body goes slack and I have to carefully lower him back to the floor. He’s twitching all over, cock pulsing weakly. I take my soiled hand up to his chest and wipe his come across his nipples.
His stomach jerks and he moans.
“Such sensitive breasts,” I say, pinching one.
He squirms a bit, and then stills after a full body shudder. Aftershocks.
I unwind the belt from my hand and then tug on it. “Take us to your bathroom, Bunny.”
He turns his head to me, mouth in a strange shape and then I realize that he is confused. I smile and press a kiss to his lips. “I’m going to clean you up.”
“It’s been more than an hour.”
“Probably. Come on.” I stand up and tug on the belt. He gingerly climbs to his knees.
“Down the hall, second door,” he says.
I lead the way and he crawls behind me. His bathroom is decorated as plain as it can be. With only a couple blue towels hanging up and a dish for his toothbrush and one for soap. There is a bathmat and a blue shower curtain. I leave him in the middle of the tile and plug the tub and start the water. I go back to him and run my hands through his sweaty hair.
“You’ve been so good tonight that you get another reward,” I say and wipe my dick over his lips. “Do you want it?” I ask, because sometimes the client doesn’t even realize that people like being pissed on.
He swallows and then nods and opens his mouth.
So many day dreams coming true.
I guide his mouth to my dick. It’s half hard, but not enough to really hinder me. I wait until he has me securely and then relax. It takes a moment, but he sits there and waits, head tilted up. The first taste of piss has him moaning, mouth tightening and I have to shut my eyes, his throat working fast to keep up. When I’m almost through, I pull away and finish pissing on his face and his chest. He shivers and whines, mouth open, begging for more. I shake the last few drops on his tongue.
“Thank you, Xiah.”
“You deserved it, Hunny Bunny. Now, go get in the tub,” I say and remove the belt.
He drops to his hands and knees and crawls over the tile. I wish I had put lashes on his back. Damn it.
Professor Jung hisses at the hot water, but lowers himself. I let the water run for a moment longer and then turn it off. I discard my jacket and my sweater before kneeling next to the tub. I take his arm and press his hand to my chest. He moans and takes the invitation to explore my skin, fingers light.
He uses bar soap, so I snag it and wet it and start washing at his shoulders. Only the movement of the water makes noise as I clean him. He lifts his legs and his hips when I get to those parts. When I’m done, I put the soap back. I turn his face with fingers on his chin and kiss him lightly.
“You did such a great job.”
“Thank you, Xiah.”
“Shut your eyes,” I say, voice shaking, and reach for the blindfold. It’s risky, but ... well, if he opens his eyes, he opens his eyes. I still need to pass his class so I can graduate, so it won’t really matter if he knows who I am. I hold my breath as I remove it and his eyes are shut. With a smile, I lean forward a press a kiss to each eyelid. He smiles.
I take his shampoo and pour a hefty amount into my hands. I scrub it into his hair, scratching and rubbing. He moans from the treatment and just to prolong it, I move my hands down his neck and to his shoulders, massaging lightly, and for as long as I can get away with it.
“Okay. Rinse off,” I whisper.
He takes a deep breath and ducks under the water. I rub his head underwater to get the soap out of his hair. When he surfaces, his eyes are still shut. I pull the plug to drain the tub and then put the blindfold back over his eyes. I stand up and tell him to stand. He’s shaking and he almost slips, but I steady him as he climbs out of the bathroom.
He immediately drops to his knees. I use one of the towels to dry us off.
“Bedroom?” I whisper.
“Next door to the right.”
I tangle my hands in his wet hair and lead him to his bed. The bedroom is done in greens, and there are a few more personal effects scattered around, like pictures and books, and a small television. I desperately want to explore.
I help him into bed. I want to lay next to him or lay over and rub lotion into his skin until we’re both ready for another round, but I have overstayed my welcome by at least two hours. I settle him into bed, and then tell him again to close his eyes. I remove the blindfold. I kiss his eyelids again and then leave one last lingering kiss on his lips.
I stand up and head to the door.
“Thank you, Xiah,” he whispers. “You’re better at that than most.”
“So are you, Professor Hunny.” I shut the door behind me softly and lean against it for a moment. With a deep breath I push away and gather up my things. Knowing I won’t ever see the inside of this apartment again, I glance around the main area. I want to write a note that has my email address on it. Sometimes I have clients who only want me. But I don’t dare. I can’t risk him recognizing my handwriting.
I leave the apartment, cursing, that I now have to go home, sleep for a couple hours and then get up for school. It’s my own fault. But there is nothing that is going to keep me from going to Professor Jung’s class.
Part 2: At School
.
Pairing: Junsu/Yunho
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Oh man, the things I'd do if they were mine to play with.
Summary: I work for Playmates on Call, an online escort service. Okay, so we're prostitutes, but I make a lot of money, and it's the money I need. I've been doing this for almost two years, and not much can surprise me. Until my next client ends up being one of the last people I would ever expect.
Warning: Teacher/Student. Junsu is in High School, BUT he's 19, for reasons that I won't spoil. Bondage, watersports, bit of cross dressing, humiliation and bdsm fun times
A/N: Yeah, so my paper ... I wrote this instead.
Part 1:
Warning: Teacher/Student. Junsu is in High School, BUT he's 19, for reasons that I won't spoil. Bondage, watersports, bit of cross dressing, humiliation and bdsm fun times
In case you need to listen to sex in song form:
Click to viewThe first time I see Professor Jung outside of class, he is naked, blindfolded and kneeling in the middle of his living room.
It takes me a minute (or six) to a: process the fact that my Math teacher is naked, b: process the fact that my Math teacher hired a stranger to abuse him, and c: I am about to abuse, fuck, and play with my naked Math teacher.
I lick my lips.
Professor Jung whimpers in the silence.
No, not Professor Jung. Not in this environment. In this environment he is Hunny Bunny. His choice of a name, not mine.
I wonder if he’ll recognize my voice.
Fuck. I contemplate leaving; the ultimate shaming insult to the man on his hands and knees is not being desirable enough. I can. It’s in the agreement that he signed that if I don’t find him desirable, I am allowed to leave. It’s also in the contract that if I know my client, I have to leave.
But give up a chance to fuck around with the hottest teacher in school? No fucking way.
I lower my voice and say, “Two rules.”
He flinches like I smacked him, but he also inhales deeply in relief.
“You are not allowed to look at me. You will remain blindfolded through the night. And if it does fall off, you will shut your damn eyes. Pretty you may be, but a little shit like you has to earn the right to see me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Xiah.”
I shiver. Never has my alias sounded so sweet, whispered so thankfully and pure, from someone’s lips. His voice is already dripping with need. God, what if he says my real name in that voice? I might just come. My erection is pressed tightly against my black leather pants, and I’m sure I could rub one off with that tone of voice in my memory and his sexy body ready for me to hurt it.
“Second rule,” I say, not having to deepen my voice this time. The lust did that. “You can touch me, but you have to ask permission. If I say no, then I say no.”
He nodded.
“Safe word?”
“Quadratic.”
I snort before I can stop myself. His cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. And I fuel it along, because I fucking can.
“Not what I was expecting. You much be such a geek. Can’t pull your head away from math enough to get a proper lover, so you have to be an internet slut.”
His arms are shaking, head lowered between them. The skin on his neck is red. I walk to him, the heel of my boots hitting sharply on the wooden floor. I’m a little mad that he can’t look at me, because I am dressed like a fucking sex god. Usually am on these trips. The tight black leather pants are tucked into boots with buckles up the front. The black, knitted shirt is snug around my waist, the collar artfully torn to show off the curve of my neck and collarbones. The short leather jacket accentuates my shoulders, and the spiked collar on my neck just adds that flair of give me. I dress in clothes that make me seem like the weak one, the victim, the bottom.
Too bad Professor Jung will not be able to appreciate it.
I circle him, mouth going dry. Professor Jung is the hottest teacher in school. He’s over 180 centimeters. His suits fit him snugly, showing off a body he still takes care of. He never tells students his age, but enough have looked it up that I know he’s thirty-nine. Single. None of us knew why he was single; and the female teachers are always swooning over him as much as the students are.
Makes sense to me now.
I let my fingers trail along his side. The first touch. He jerks, breath leaving his mouth harshly. His skin is already damp with sweat.
“Hunny Bunny,” I say softly, fingers on his tailbone. “Such a cute name.”
Standing next to him, I bring my hand back and slap his ass. The muscle jiggles, he gasps, entire body tensing. His skin turns pink for a moment, and then fades. I spank him again. A little harder. With a smirk, I add one more with a mental, “That’s for the B+ on the last test”. I was mad at myself for a stupid mistake of not carrying over a negative screwed up one problem. I’d been one point from an A.
I spank him one more time, on the other cheek.
Hunny Bunny’s profile says that he’s up for almost anything. The few things he does not want are blood, hot wax and full bondage. He does not mind being restrained and tied up and gagged and blindfolded, but nothing completely restraining.
Oh, the options.
I walk around to the front of him. Jerking it around so he can hear the buckle clinking, I remove my belt. His breath speeds up.
I wrap it around his neck. “You need a leash,” I say, pulling the belt tightly. He swallows around it, stretching. I wind the length of it around my hand and yank his head up. His mouth is open, breath harsh through his wet lips.
God, I want to look in his eyes. I want him to know who I am.
He licks his lips.
Oh god, I want to kiss him.
I shut my eyes, head back. Should I break a rule? My own rule. My first rule. How many times have I lost the train of Professor Jung’s lectures because I’m dreaming about kissing him? I open my eyes. Professor Jung is waiting for something. I run my fingers over his lips. They part, a tongue reaching out, and rules are meant to be broken, right?
I lean down with a small moan and capture that lower lip between mine. He whimpers, but does not protest or jerk away. He meets the kiss eagerly. When was the last time he was properly kissed? He’s practically starved for attention.
I kneel in front of him, cup his cheek and tilt his head so I can deepen the kiss. His whimpers increase and he’s shivering under the treatment.
“Such a good bunny,” I mutter into his mouth, loving the flush on his cheeks. “Your mouth is beautiful. Lips so pliant and needy.” I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I want to see how beautiful they are wrapped around my cock.”
He whimpers again, licking his lips, and mine, and I kiss him for a moment longer, before whispering, “Go get my cock, you beautiful slut.”
With an eager whine, he shifts to put weight on his knees. His hands land on my thighs, squeezing. He moans in appreciation and moves them up, catching fingers on the patterns of leather diamonds. I keep kissing him, biting at his lips in between shoving my tongue in his throat. I’m so fucking hard, and I’ll probably embarrass myself, because Professor Jung is about to fucking suck on my dick.
His fingers shake a the top of my pants, eager to touch, and I let him. With a hand on his wrist, I push his hand under the knit shirt, and he moans, fingers mapping the curves of my stomach. When I say nothing, he goes higher, nails light over my skin, to my nipples. I moan in appreciation, deepen the kiss and find myself going back, lowering to the floor, with him over me. His body heat is intoxicating.
“Pants, Hunny Bunny.”
He flushes, and apologizes softly. His hands go back down my stomach, fingers going by feel to get to the top of my pants again. I lean back on my elbows and watch him. He’s shivering in need, and I can’t wait to touch him. Really touch him. His fingers fumble with the series of buttons. I am not wearing anything under them, and he jerks when he touches my dick. But it spurs him on and in a moment, the pants are undone and my cock is out.
He stops, and I bite back a harsh reprimand. We are not lovers, I remind myself, and I am in charge. He needs permission first. I run my hand up to his head, twist his hair and push his head down.
“Suck my dick, horny bunny.”
His mouth opens around the shaft. He moans, sliding his mouth up to the crown. He runs his tongue along the ridge and then turns his head, wincing from the pull of my fingers. His lips close around the soft head, and with a soft suck, the tip of me is in his mouth, and we both moan. He takes half of me and then goes back up, tongue swirling around the crown for a moment before doing it again. Deeper.
My dick isn’t long enough to do a Monster Cock porn, but it’s long enough to be proud of, and wide. Professor Jung’s lips are stretched around it, wet and red.
“God, I knew those lips would be pretty on my dick.”
His cheeks flush further and he goes faster, bobbing his head. I use both hands to pull his hair, slam his head down and jerk my hips up. He takes the rough treatment easily, and the muscles of his throat are massaging me, tightening, playing, teasing.
Fucking bastard is amazing at this. And I’m losing control.
“Such a cock whore,” I mutter and push him away.
He whines before he can stop himself, mouth reaching for my cock again. I slap him roughly, and his head lowers with a pliant whimper. I get back on my knees, yank his head down and let him take my cock back in his mouth. I thrust into his mouth, and feel him gag just once before his entire mouth and even his throat relax. His face is pressed against my stomach in no time, and I thrust faster.
I want his voice hoarse in class tomorrow.
I want to see his fucking eyes.
I want to fucking come down his throat. Or all over his face. Or both.
“Fuck, Pr--” I stop myself just in time, and he makes no indication that he even heard me. I yank away, orgasm shooting through me. I aim at his face, and he takes the first splash on his cheek, and his mouth opens with an eager whine. Another splash lands on his lips and then I shove my dick back in his mouth and finish coming with him swallowing eagerly around me.
I pull away enough to roll the head of my dick around his lips. With a squeeze and a moan, a pearl of come pulses from the tip and I wipe it on his cheek.
“Such a cock slut,” I repeat.
“Thank you for letting me have your come, Xiah,” he whispers.
I shiver and my dick twitches. “Head to the floor, Bunny Slut. You did such a good job that now you get a reward.”
“Thank you, Xiah,” he says and immediately puts his head to the floor, face turned, cheek pressed against the hardwood. I move to the side and put his hands behind his back. He follows my lead and grasps his hands at his lower back. I take the belt, yank on it so it’s tight around his neck and tie his hands with it. The muscles in his arms and back tense, and then relax.
I stand up and move away from him. My hand wraps around my dick, stroking slowly, and think about his reward. His profile says that he doesn’t care what kind of things I do to him. Just that I do them to him. Control him and abuse him. So far the abuse hasn’t been much beyond a few spankings. I walk behind him and kick his legs open a bit. I slide my finger down his cleft. His shivers when I stop at his entrance. It’s tight, but well, that’s what abuse is for.
“Such a loose whore,” I mutter and flick the opening harshly. “I’m glad I let you suck my cock. You aren’t tight enough to give me an orgasm. I was going to ask what work you do, but I can see now. A big a prostitute, sell your gaping hole to whoever is desperate enough to fuck it.”
Professor Jung whined, but said nothing. His skin was pink with shame and slick with sweat.
“It’s such a shame. After that blowjob, I was expecting better. But since you sucked on my cock so nicely and you have such pretty lips, for now I’ll forget that you’re an eager little slut for everything and everyone, and I’ll reward you.”
I spanked him, hard.
He actually cried out and then snapped his teeth over his bottom lip.
I hit him again and his body jerked forward, face moving on the floor. I wish it were carpet, to give him a pretty red mark on his cheek. I spank him again. Only on one cheek, in the same place, over and over. The skin turns red, and he’s unable to cover his whimpers and cries. It’s beautiful how one cheek is cherry red, the other pale. But they need to match, so without warning him, I switch. I bring my other hand up to my mouth and cover a finger in spit.
Again, I slide my finger down his cleft.
Multitasking is great.
His moans and his knees spread, opening himself up.
“Such an eager whore,” I mutter and press my finger into him. It’s too dry, but he definitely doesn’t seem to care.
I leave my finger inside him and continue spanking him, switching cheeks now and moving lower on his legs.
“You are going to be shifting in your seat tomorrow,” I say.
His body freezes for a moment and then relaxes.
Conversationally, like I don’t have a finger in his ass or that I’m spanking him, I add, “It’s a Tuesday night. I’m assuming you have work tomorrow, yes?”
Professor Jung swallows. “Yes, Xiah,” he manages between whimpers.
“Why do you want this on a day you have to work tomorrow?” I stop spanking him, and he stays tense, expecting a blow, before relaxing. I spit into his cleft and run my finger over the slickened skin before pushing it into him again. I pump slowly.
“Answer the question?”
With a whine, he says, “No one knows. It’s ...”
“You like that no one knows you’re a fucking cock slut? That you want pretty young boys to work you over and fuck you until you’re gaping and open?”
“Yes, fuck, yes, please.”
I shake my head. I want to make him admit that he’s a high school teacher, but I am not allowed to ask such personal questions. Technically, as soon as I saw who my client was, I should have walked out that door. I’m not supposed to know my clients. So the rules don’t really matter.
“And what is your job, Hunny Bunny?”
He pauses for a moment, and then says, “I’m a math teacher.”
“Naughty teacher,” I whisper and lean down and press a kiss to the heated skin of his ass. “Did you enjoy your reward, Professor?” I smile, because now I can call him that. But I have to be careful about my voice. I do not want him to figure out who I am.
“Yes, Xiah. Thank you.”
I pull a small bottle of lube from my pocket and snap open the cap. Shivering in anticipation, Professor Jung’s legs spread further. His hands are clenching together, knuckles white. I pour the lube above my fingers and trail a third through it before pushing it in. Professor Jung whimpers. I grip one sore cheek and pump the three fingers in and out of him, spreading them open and twisting them around. Professor Jung’s body stays still, muscles froze in anticipation. Held in check. He wants to fuck himself on my fingers.
But he’s too well trained to blatantly take control without asking for permission.
I slow my fingers and press in another from my other hand. “I think I can fit my fist into your loose ass. How many things have you had inside yourself at once? How many men do you let fuck you at the same time?”
He whimpers, back arching, fingers flexing.
“Fuck my fingers, Slutty Professor Bunny.”
With an eager noise, he thrusts his hips back and shoots forward, back and forth. Quick. Chaotic. I let him, rubbing my other hand over his red skin. He is shaking so badly after five minutes, probably desperate to come. How long did he wait for me?
“Stop,” I whisper, and he does immediately, his breath panting harshly in the silence.
I slap his hip a few times, satisfied at the faded pink fingerprints. I loosen the belt on his wrists and say, “On your back.”
He collapses with a sigh, and then rolls over, hands above his head. I straddle his waist and sit on his hard, desperate cock. With a smirk, I roll my hips, the leather dragging over the sensitive skin. He moans, hips arching. His arms lift, and then fall.
Voice rough, he gasps, “May I touch you, Xiah?”
“Such a good bunny for remembering,” I croon, and his face heats up with embarrassed satisfaction. “But not now. Later, I promise.”
I will not survive him touching me. Maybe he’ll pass out before then.
“Keep your hands above your head, Hunny Bunny.”
He nods.
The rules state that I have an hour with my client. I’m sure that hour is up. I’m sure Professor Jung has lost track of time.
I snag the bottle of lube from the floor, turn it over and squeeze a bunch on his chest. His skin and muscles jerk at the chill on heated skin. I run my hands through it, over his stomach and up to his chest. Yes, he’s in good shape for his age, but age and a thankless job are catching up on him. I scratch down his sternum and then go back up, tugging on his chest hair enough to pull but not to hurt. I rub his chest, fingers catching on his nipples. He’s still well-built, but hey, I won’t be doing my job if I don’t humiliate the guy.
“Did you know you have breasts?” I ask, cupping one and giving it a firm squeeze.
His cheeks go bright, bright red. Oh, yeah. He knows. And he hates it.
“Saggy breasts and a well-fucked cunt. You really are a piece of over-used street trash.”
I pinch a nipple roughly and pull a cry from his throat. With a chuckle, I splay my hands over both pec muscles and squeeze, before pushing them together.
“Look at this cleavage. Do you wear a bra to support them?”
He whimpers, but says nothing.
“Answer the question, Hunny Bunny,” I demand and pinch both nipples.
“Only--” he gasps, writhing under the abuse.
“Only?” I prompt with a firm tug, lifting the nipple up, so his skin is stretched.
“Only ... oh god, only with ...” His hips rise and he’s rubbing himself on my ass. I think briefly of getting off him, since he does not have permission for that. Instead, I rub his chest harder, press my body down on his and pinch his nipples and the surrounding skin until it’s almost as bright as his cheeks. He whimpers and then his voice catches in the back of his throat, body still, and he shudders through a violent dry orgasm.
He sags to the floor, panting, and then whispers an apology.
“I can’t really expect anything else from such an eager whore,” I say. “Now answer my last question.” I slap his chest, the sore skin stinging pink. He yelps and then takes a deep breath.
“I ... I have skirts, and ...”
Oh my god. Professor Jung in a skirt? My dick throbs. “You don’t wear those to teach, do you?’
“No, no. Just ... just ...”
“Just when you’re hooking it on the street corner?” I pull his nipple really hard.
With a whimper, he nods. “Just ... I like them.”
“Hm. I don’t blame you,” I say and run my hands over his chest. I’m sure there will be bruises around his nipples tomorrow. “The thought of your body in a skirt with bra and panties makes me want to fuck you so hard that you’ll wish you had a vagina to take the beating.” Before he can reply, I squeeze his chest again, cupping it like a breast. I lean down and suck on his sore nipple. He moans and squirms under me. I lap at the hardened nub and then kiss around it, before moving to the other nipple to give it the same soft treatment.
“Xiah, please, may I touch you, please?”
“No.”
He whines and then gasps when I go back to the other nipple. I suck and play with each one until my back hurts from leaning over him. He’s recovered from the teasing orgasm, and he’s rubbing against me again. It takes all my mental capacity to remind myself that I am here to hurt him. He wants me to hurt him.
“I love your breasts,” I mutter into one. His breath hitches with a whine. “So plump and beautiful. Tender.” I bite down, smirking at his sharp cry. I continue and leave teeth imprints all over his chest. I move down and tug at his chest hair with my fingers and leave more bites all down his stomach. It twitches under the treatment. Needing to distance myself again from this man who stars in my fantasies, I push up, squeezing his sore chest one more time and then scoot back to his knees. His cock is bright red, the head swollen and leaking clear fluid. I smile and run my finger along the crown.
“If it wasn’t for this,” I say, “based on your breasts, I’d think you were a woman.”
He takes a deep breath and bites his lip.
I laugh. “You’d make an ugly woman,” I say and run my tongue up his dick just once.
He practically screams, hips arching into it. I smack his side sharply a few times until he stills, face scrunched, focusing on the pain. I move my hand just enough to catch his balls on the next smack and he absolutely screams. It’s a beautiful noise, so I slap them again, and then again. I grab his balls and pull on them roughly, spinning them in my hands and twisting them over and around. His screams have dulled into weak protests.
“Do you want me to stop, Hunny Bunny?”
“Please, fuck please, stop.”
No safeword. I smile and pull his balls roughly toward me. “Why do you want me to stop?”
He screams again, body weaving on the ground. “Hurts, fuck, that ... just, stop please.”
I let his testicles go and he inhales, but before he can relax, I flick one. Hard. His scream echoes around us, but his cock pulses more clear fluid to his stomach. I flick the other one with the same result, and switch between the two of them. His breath is labored, chest hitching like he’s crying, and I really do not want him to say his safeword because then I have to leave. I wrap my hand around the sore balls and give them a squeeze.
“Fine, you weakling. I’ll stop.”
He whimpers an apology.
“But I need my belt.” I pull it from his neck, not gently, and his head smacks on the ground. He whimpers. The belt catches on the blindfold, and displaces it. I hold my breath, but it doesn’t move enough to uncover his eyes. I hastily fix it, and then pat his cheek.
“Do you need a break?” I whisper.
He swallows, and shakes his head. “I’m ... god, I’m ...”
“So turned on that you want me to let you come?”
“Yes, please.”
I chuckle. “Not yet. But when I let you come, it’ll be worth it.”
“I know, Xiah. Thank you.”
I shiver, and want to scream, CALL ME JUNSU! or dongsaeng. That’s definitely wanting too much. Professor Jung is more than twenty years older than I am.
With a huff, I move back further and let the belt trail over his body. I spread his legs and kneel between them. Running my hands from his thighs to his knees, I hum in appreciation. His thighs are amazingly thick. Strong and covered with a dusting of hair.
Jung Yunho is a sexy beast, and I want his cock rocking in and out of my body.
I slap his inner thigh and then push at his knees. “Bend your knees, hold them to your chest.”
His body is weak and quivering, but he does as I ask. His ass is still red, his testicles darker, smashed as they are.
“I have been going easy on you, but it seems like you can take more. Do you want more, Professor Bunny?”
“Please, yes, please. Anything you want.”
I snort. I want to fuck you over my desk at school, is what I want to say. I lift my foot, put my boot where his hands wrists are pressed together and push back, until his weight is on his shoulders. I reach down and pull at his dick so it is on the underside of his thighs, stretched and painful, probably.
Without warning him, I bring the belt down against his ass. It cracks over sore skin and leaves a nice red welt. I add another one just below it. He screams at both, body jerking. I move the belt higher, just missing his balls, and then aim for his thigh. I barely give him time to take breaths between the lashes, and paint his skin in red welts. When one of them splits and starts to bleed, I stop and survey my work. The crisscrosses are beautiful. His skin is covered in sweat and his thighs are shaking hard.
I remove my boot and his body rocks down, ass hitting the floor. He screams again, at the touch of the cool wood on his beaten skin.
Chuckling, I drop to my knees. I pry his hands away from his legs. There are bleeding half moon nail marks on his thighs. I gently spread his legs, and then push behind his knees until they’re level with his head. He moans at the stretch, but does nothing else. Too wired and sore.
With one hand, I grab the bottle of lube and dump the clear fluid over my cock, and then pour some directly on his ass. He whimpers softly, and the furled opening clenches for me. I press two fingers into him for guidance, hold my cock steady and push. He is really too tight.
“Such a loose ... oh fuck ... cunt,” I mutter, breathless as his channel clamps down on me. A fleeting smile dances on his lips and I laugh, totally spoiling the moment. I push deeper, his body sucking me in and then stop, my leather-clad thighs against his ass. It takes me a moment (and a whole lot of deep breaths) before I can move. Professor Jung isn’t the only one that needs to come. I have never played with a client this long.
Finally, I lower my hands to the back of his thighs and use the grip to spread him open a bit more. His ankles rest on my shoulders and I shift my knees before pulling out and thrusting back in. Everything is so tight. My eyes shut, my fingers tighten, and I move faster Just like with the blowjob, I am going to come faster than I want to. Sweat is dripping down my back, soaking through my top and the leather pants are growing more uncomfortable. I don’t dare stop, and speed up, leaning over him. His knees hook at my elbows, and I reach for his lips. His moans and whimpers are swallowed in our kiss. I spread my knees and slow my thrusts, trying to prolong this. Pleasurable greed is spreading through me, tightening my stomach, and forcing the kiss, harder and deeper. Each thrust is punctuated with a sharp cry from him and a little moan from me. He’s so tight, and his body is pulsating around me.
I manage to stave off my orgasm for long enough that I’m not embarrassed, but it’s only because this is the only fucking time I’m going to be able to fuck my math teacher and that thought almost hurts. He’s so precious and needy. I’ve seen so many bottoms and abused and humiliated so many men, but Professor Jung is genuine and pure, and I am no longer making any sense.
And really, he’s way too tight for me to last as long as I want to and I’m only nineteen. I yank my face away from his, thrust into him faster and have to bite my lip against screaming his name. My entire lower body tightens, tenses and then releases as my orgasm rushes through me. I hastily pull out, and with only a single stroke of my hand, I’m coming all over his balls and dick. Strained with pleasure, I push back into him, prolonging the electricity of pleasure as it shoots around my skin. His channel tightens around me, sucking me dry. I sag, and have to catch myself on the floor, with hands by his head. His mouth is open, lips wet and shiny. I run my tongue over his beautiful skin.
“Damn, Hunny,” I whisper and kiss his lower lip. “Warn a guy before you do everything you can to make him come so hard.”
His cheeks heat again. His breath is just as labored as mine, but he manages to say, “Thank you for fucking me, Xiah.”
“Like I didn’t want to the minute I walked through your door.” I run my hand over his cheek and over his lips. “You’re beautiful.”
He smiles, and god, I want to see his eyes.
Instead, I slap his thigh and say, “On your feet.”
“Xiah?”
“Did I stutter, Hunny Bunny? Come on. You’ve been so good. Don’t ruin it.”
With a deep breath, Professor Jung rolls to his knees and then pushes up. He’s shaking so hard that he falls over twice before he can steady himself enough to stand.
“You are so tall,” I whisper and press a kiss to his shoulder to show him how tall I am. I pull the belt back around his neck. There are red marks from earlier. I wrap it around my hand again so it’s nice and tight.
“Stroke yourself.”
He whimpers, but his fingers close around his dick. I watch his hand move slowly. His body is giving up on him.
“Don’t fall,” I warn him and tug on the belt. “You won’t have any give.”
He swallows roughly, and keeps stroking. He can’t come just yet, and I wait a full two minutes before reaching over and stilling his hand long enough to remove the cock ring. He whimpers.
“Keep stroking.”
“Do I have permission to come?” he asks, voice desperate.
“Yes, but not if you fall over. I’ll ring you back up and give you another round with this belt.”
He smiles, all teeth and I swoon a little inside. I love it when I get an answer right in class, just to have that smile pointed at me.
“That isn’t much of an incentive to stay on my feet, Xiah.”
I laugh, and step into him, my arm around his waist. Our lips meet easily, and I push his hand away and use mine. He moans, body shuddering.
“May I touch you now, Xiah?”
“Yes.”
His arms wrap around my shoulders, and his knees quake. I double the effort in our kiss.
“Come, Professor,” I whisper into his lips, “Come all over my hand.”
He breaks the kiss, head dropping back, mouth open. His entire body trembles, and he shifts to the side, almost toppling over. I catch us, and hold him close as he screams and pumps his orgasm into my hand. His body goes slack and I have to carefully lower him back to the floor. He’s twitching all over, cock pulsing weakly. I take my soiled hand up to his chest and wipe his come across his nipples.
His stomach jerks and he moans.
“Such sensitive breasts,” I say, pinching one.
He squirms a bit, and then stills after a full body shudder. Aftershocks.
I unwind the belt from my hand and then tug on it. “Take us to your bathroom, Bunny.”
He turns his head to me, mouth in a strange shape and then I realize that he is confused. I smile and press a kiss to his lips. “I’m going to clean you up.”
“It’s been more than an hour.”
“Probably. Come on.” I stand up and tug on the belt. He gingerly climbs to his knees.
“Down the hall, second door,” he says.
I lead the way and he crawls behind me. His bathroom is decorated as plain as it can be. With only a couple blue towels hanging up and a dish for his toothbrush and one for soap. There is a bathmat and a blue shower curtain. I leave him in the middle of the tile and plug the tub and start the water. I go back to him and run my hands through his sweaty hair.
“You’ve been so good tonight that you get another reward,” I say and wipe my dick over his lips. “Do you want it?” I ask, because sometimes the client doesn’t even realize that people like being pissed on.
He swallows and then nods and opens his mouth.
So many day dreams coming true.
I guide his mouth to my dick. It’s half hard, but not enough to really hinder me. I wait until he has me securely and then relax. It takes a moment, but he sits there and waits, head tilted up. The first taste of piss has him moaning, mouth tightening and I have to shut my eyes, his throat working fast to keep up. When I’m almost through, I pull away and finish pissing on his face and his chest. He shivers and whines, mouth open, begging for more. I shake the last few drops on his tongue.
“Thank you, Xiah.”
“You deserved it, Hunny Bunny. Now, go get in the tub,” I say and remove the belt.
He drops to his hands and knees and crawls over the tile. I wish I had put lashes on his back. Damn it.
Professor Jung hisses at the hot water, but lowers himself. I let the water run for a moment longer and then turn it off. I discard my jacket and my sweater before kneeling next to the tub. I take his arm and press his hand to my chest. He moans and takes the invitation to explore my skin, fingers light.
He uses bar soap, so I snag it and wet it and start washing at his shoulders. Only the movement of the water makes noise as I clean him. He lifts his legs and his hips when I get to those parts. When I’m done, I put the soap back. I turn his face with fingers on his chin and kiss him lightly.
“You did such a great job.”
“Thank you, Xiah.”
“Shut your eyes,” I say, voice shaking, and reach for the blindfold. It’s risky, but ... well, if he opens his eyes, he opens his eyes. I still need to pass his class so I can graduate, so it won’t really matter if he knows who I am. I hold my breath as I remove it and his eyes are shut. With a smile, I lean forward a press a kiss to each eyelid. He smiles.
I take his shampoo and pour a hefty amount into my hands. I scrub it into his hair, scratching and rubbing. He moans from the treatment and just to prolong it, I move my hands down his neck and to his shoulders, massaging lightly, and for as long as I can get away with it.
“Okay. Rinse off,” I whisper.
He takes a deep breath and ducks under the water. I rub his head underwater to get the soap out of his hair. When he surfaces, his eyes are still shut. I pull the plug to drain the tub and then put the blindfold back over his eyes. I stand up and tell him to stand. He’s shaking and he almost slips, but I steady him as he climbs out of the bathroom.
He immediately drops to his knees. I use one of the towels to dry us off.
“Bedroom?” I whisper.
“Next door to the right.”
I tangle my hands in his wet hair and lead him to his bed. The bedroom is done in greens, and there are a few more personal effects scattered around, like pictures and books, and a small television. I desperately want to explore.
I help him into bed. I want to lay next to him or lay over and rub lotion into his skin until we’re both ready for another round, but I have overstayed my welcome by at least two hours. I settle him into bed, and then tell him again to close his eyes. I remove the blindfold. I kiss his eyelids again and then leave one last lingering kiss on his lips.
I stand up and head to the door.
“Thank you, Xiah,” he whispers. “You’re better at that than most.”
“So are you, Professor Hunny.” I shut the door behind me softly and lean against it for a moment. With a deep breath I push away and gather up my things. Knowing I won’t ever see the inside of this apartment again, I glance around the main area. I want to write a note that has my email address on it. Sometimes I have clients who only want me. But I don’t dare. I can’t risk him recognizing my handwriting.
I leave the apartment, cursing, that I now have to go home, sleep for a couple hours and then get up for school. It’s my own fault. But there is nothing that is going to keep me from going to Professor Jung’s class.
Part 2: At School
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