: I don't own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer
[BtVS] or any stories or works this my cross-over with. This is intended as an homage to them, and is in no way intended to infringe on their respective owners' rights. I don’t make any money from this, and I never intend to do so. Summary:
Willow likes to write porn. Unfortunately, she keeps leaving where others can find it. Warning: PWP, het-sex, femmeslash A/N
: This is an experiment. Please let me know what you like or don’t like about it. If you don’t like it just because it’s porn, then don’t bother complaining, you were warned what it was, you didn’t have to read it. Classroom Discipline
“I brought back that book you lent me, Giles,” Willow said.
Giles looked up, somewhat distractedly from the memo from Travers that he was reading.
“What? Oh, yes. Thank you, Willow. Please just put it there.”
He gestured in the direction of the library table.
“Well,” Willow said, “got to get to class. I’ll see you later.”
Giles had already returned to the memo, and just nodded absently in response.
Sometime later, Giles was tidying up the library. As he stacked up the books on the table, some folded papers fell out of one of them.
Picking them up curiously, he began to read. She stood before of the entire class with her jeans and panties pulled down to her knees, her legs spread as far as they would go under the circumstances. Her head was lowered so that her long red hair fell forward to cover her face, bright red with shame. Holding her shirt-tails up in front of her with both hands, she was thankful for the small comfort of her sleeveless sweater. At least no one would be able to tell how excited she was.
She could almost feel their eyes, moving across her bare skin, brushing against the delicate folds of her recently shaved pussy. She still couldn’t believe that she had done that, and she never would have been so bold if she had ever even remotely contemplated a situation like this.
She could hear Mr. Harris’s footsteps as he circled behind her. She could picture his lop-sided grin, his caring brown eyes, as he took in her appearance. His feet came into view in front of her, and he paused, facing her for several moments before he turned to face the class.
“Well, class,” he asked, “what should we do about this?”
Several competing suggestions were called out, ranging from the merely ludicrous to the outright impossible. Mr. Harris called for silence, and she pictured him waving for the class to settle down as he always did after getting the class involved in discussions and needed to move on.
She was getting more and more aroused. She just hoped that she didn’t get to the point where the evidence of that would be running down her legs. The thought of such a prospect, unfortunately, just seemed to excite her more.
“Yes, thank you class,” Mr. Harris said. “I have enough suggestions now.”
Walking back behind her again, he pressed up against her back.
“I think we’ll start slowly. After all, this is a first offense.”
With that, he wrapped his arms around her, one around her arms, still holding her shirt up, the other hand gently grabbing her breast. She felt incredibly comforted and safe with his arms around her like that.
As he began playing with her nipple through her sweater and shirt, he chuckled. She hadn’t worn a bra today.
“My, you are a naughty girl today, aren’t you?” he whispered in her ear. When she hadn’t responded after a moment, he asked again, “Aren’t you, my dear?”
Trembling lightly, she answered in a low voice that only he could hear, “Yes, sir.”
She could feel his head nodding in agreement, his cheek pressed against her head. As he continued pinching her nipple, he slowly lowered his other hand, dusting his finger tips lightly over the skin of her stomach, circling, teasing. His hand moved gently up and down, and each successive downward movement brought his fingers a little lower than the previous.
Sliding his hand down that last little bit, he cupped it over her pussy, squeezing gently. She let out a quiet mew, rolling her head back onto his shoulder.
“Don’t move your hands,” he said, running his middle finger over her labia. She began to squirm, pushing her ass back against him.
Despite his demand, he didn’t push her away as she pressed back against his hard cock. He curled his middle finger up inside her, sliding it in and out as he barely brushed the side of his thumb against her clit. She was hardly able to stand unsupported, and she was sure that the front row of the class could smell her thick, musky scent.
She was panting rapidly, and was sure that she would orgasm at any moment. Suddenly he stopped, pulling his hand away from her pussy, moving it back up to wrap his arm around her arms again.
“What…?” she asked. She turned her head towards him, a baffled expression on her face.
Reassuring her with his lop-sided smile, he wrapped both arms around her and gently picked her up, setting her down in front of his desk.
“Put your hands on the desk, dear.” He nodded his chin towards the desk.
As she complied with his request, he knelt down and began untying her shoes. She was reminded of a stablehand checking a horse’s shoes, as he lifted first one foot, then the other, removing her sneakers, always keeping a hand in contact with her. He ran his hands slowly up the outside of her legs, until he reached the waistline of her jeans, and began working them down, pulling them off. Again, he prompted her to raise first one foot, then the other, stepping out of her jeans and panties.
He ran his hands up the back of her legs, continuing over her buttocks, coming to rest on her hips. Pulling her cheeks apart, he examined her for a moment before leaning in, and she could feel his face burrowing between her legs, she could hear him inhale deeply, taking her scent into himself. His tongue flicked out to briefly touch her labia, before he placed a gentle kiss on her asshole, making her twitch in surprise.
Rising to stand behind her, he ran his hands up her sides, wrapping them around her as he leaned against her back, holding her tightly to him. Burying his face in her hair, he kissed her on the collarbone, then trailed his tongue up to her ear. He caught her earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently at it, then spoke so quietly that she almost couldn’t hear him.
“You know what’s going to happen.”
Unsure if it was a question, she nodded jerkily anyway.
“You know why I’m doing this, don’t you?”
Again, she nodded her answer.
“I’m sorry,” he added, gently.
“What?” he asked, confused.
“Don’t be sorry. I…. Just, don’t be sorry.” She wasn’t.
The room was silent with anticipation as he unzipped his trousers. She could hear faint rustling noises.
Then he was pressed up against her, his hard cock between her legs, rubbing against her dripping cunt. Grabbing hold of a hip, he ran his other hand down her ass, reaching between her legs. He scooped up some of her moisture, rubbing it onto his erection. Then he was guiding himself into her vagina.
His cock was larger than she’d expected, and with a grunt he forced himself deeper, eliciting a moan from her—half protest, half entreaty. He slowly withdrew until he was nearly all the way out, then slammed his hips forward, pushing his cock a little deeper than before. Again, and again. Filling her a little more with each thrust. Finally, he was stroking himself in and out of her with a slow, steady pace.
Holding her by both hips now, he gradually increased his pace, fucking her tender, young pussy with increasing abandon. Moaning steadily by now, she started tossing her head from side to side.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me, Mr. Harris!” She had lost all inhibition.
She began keening and pushing back against him, in rhythm with his thrusts, which were becoming a little erratic. With a shout, he thrust more deeply into her than before and exploded in orgasm. As she felt his flood, filling her with his semen, her own orgasm washed over her, robbing her of conscious thought for several minutes.
As she came to her senses, she found herself slumped on top of the desk, Mr. Harris lying on her back. She wriggled her butt, and he pushed raised himself up on his arms.
Suddenly the classroom erupted in applause and shouts of approval.
“What’ya reading?” Buffy asked, knocking on the door frame of Giles’s office.
“Bloody hell!” Giles exclaimed, throwing the papers up in startlement.
“Must be pretty important,” Buffy said. “I’ve been standing here for a couple of minutes.” Taking in his expression, she added, “What’s got you so hot and bothered? I hope it’s not another prophecy.”
“No, just….” He struggled for some excuse. “Internal Watcher politics.”