Joanna vs. Mr. Smith

His darker angels prevailed. He looked down at the thin knit sweater straining against the luscious melons under her shirt. Her eyes went a little wider when she saw his expression.

He pointed to the first zero. "Homework. Worth ten points. You will earn seven if you do as I say. You are to sit quietly. I am going to touch your breasts through your sweater. I will not go under, I will not touch anything else."

She gave him a look of utter disgust, but she was from the streets. She knew a power game when she saw one, and she was starting to think she might still win this one. "How long?" she asked.

"Three minutes."

She gave a nod. "Okay."

As he walked to the door to lock it, the sane part of his mind raged. "What the fuck are you doing? You will get fired! You will go to jail! For the love of God do not do this!"

And yet he walked as if in a dream over to where she was sitting, and pulled up a chair beside her. He set the timer for three minutes. He pushed the button and set his foot on the path to hell.

First, he reached out and gently caressed the sides of her boobs, his palms facing inward. Oh God, they were smooth and round but surprisingly firm. She shuddered in disgust. His cock rapidly grew to full rigidity, and he had to briefly take one hand away from her tits to adjust it in his pants.

Next he brought his thumbs up and circled the nipples over and over, applying slight pressure. Ahhh, those lovely erect nubbins. No matter how much she hated him, no matter how disgusted she was by his fat old body, she was responding to his gentle stroking.

She drew in her breath as he took her now stiff nipples between thumb and forefinger and pinched. Not hard, but not soft either. She couldn't keep a little "Uhhnn" as he lightly twisted them. His cock was throbbing in its extreme rigidity.

Next he walked around behind her. He wanted to feel their weight. He reached over her shoulders and filled his hands with hot young tit flesh. He lifted the perfect globes and felt their firm weight in his hands. He lifted them experimentally, jiggling them slightly, enjoying the firm but bouncy feel of her perfect breasts.

He began to rub them in circles, as if polishing them. Over and over he rubbed them, in circular motions. He felt her nipples rock hard under each pass. She was breathing harder now, although the look of disgust never left her face.

He took that moment to grab her nipples and pull them outward, stretching her young tit flesh through her sweater. She let out a full moan through lips pursed together in anger. "Pendejo" she muttered under her breath, as he let the nipples spring back with a jiggly pop.

The timer was going off. Edward calmly took his gradebook, erased one zero, and replaced it with a 7. Joanna, eyes hard with hatred, stood and left without saying a word.

Edward sat in his chair breathing hard. His cock was a steel bar in his pants and he had never been so excited in all his life. He had just violated a young girl, and yet he could think of nothing other than Joanna's perfect firm young titties. His hands tingled with the remembrance of them.

*****

That night Edward crashed emotionally. Not long after he arrived home from school, the euphoria of his encounter wore off, and the reality of his act sunk in. He was now a criminal. He could go to jail.

Even worse, he had violated everything he stood for. He had used his authority over a young girl to force her into sexual acts against her will. Good God, he was a sexual predator!

He broke out a bottle of wine and drank heavily that night, attempting to drown his shame. He succeeded in getting hammered drunk, but his self-hatred stayed with him until sleep took him at 3:30 in the morning.

He drug himself to school the next morning red-eyed and bleary. He was still swimming in guilt and shame, but he had resolved to make things right. he was going to talk to Joanna and apologize. He was going to help her for real to pass and graduate.

His only salvation was in taking the honorable path.

When third period rolled around, he was feeling more himself, and he was ready to face whatever was to come. Joanna strolled in, her shapeless hoodie hiding her magical body, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Too soon, as it turned out. Although it was true he was not to be distracted by her sexuality, her attitude was worse than ever. Her comments were acid and hateful, and even the other students were starting to give her curious glances. They could sense a war was brewing, and they loved it. Nothing like watching a peer self-destruct for their entertainment.

She kept challenging him, and he kept deflecting and redirecting. He really was good at his job. But so was she. It was war and everyone in the room knew it.

Edward was getting exhausted. It was mentally taxing. Near the end of the class, she had her name on the board and one check. He had asked the class to fill out an "exit slip," which was a short paragraph on what they had learned that day. Joanna sat with her paper in front of her, untouched.

"Joanna," Edward said, in as even a tone as he could summon, "please fill out your exit slip."

She looked at him with an ugly grin. "Nah. Thanks."

He felt his anger building. "Do you really want a lunch conference?"

"Who would want to eat lunch with YOU?" she said with a sassy snarl. The class erupted in laughter. She was actually leaning forward in her chair, and her knees seemed to be rubbing together.

Edgar choked on his rage. The sheer gall of the little twat! It was all he could do to not scream in rage at the obnoxious bitch.

And then it hit him. She was not rubbing her knees together. She was rubbing her thighs together. She was so turned on by his humiliation that she was creating friction between what had to be drenched pussy lips.

His brain short-circuited. Imagining the hairy little taco that nestled between those perfect little buttocks... it was too much. Imagining the drooling girl-juice that was most likely leaking out of that tight slit... too fucking much.

Again, the rage and lust seemed to overload his brain. He was incapable of speech. As his cock throbbed strained against his zipper, he turned and added a check to her name on the board. As he sat down, his brain slowly began to function normally again. Through the haze of red hot lust and anger came a single thought.

Lunch detention.

*****

She arrived with her tray, her usual sneer in place. But he was not disturbed. She was an expert at swaying the class, at making them laugh, at making Edward look like a fool. But there were no other students now. She was alone in his domain.

As she ate she opted to ignore him completely. But he did not ignore her. Now that he was keyed to her, he could not believe he had not seen it in the past. Yes, she was wearing only her standard school khakis. Her oversized hoodie hid her upper torso perfectly.

But now that he knew, he could see. He could spot the push of her large breasts against the voluminous material. It was almost more enticing to see the ghosts of her breasts pushing against the otherwise rumpled material.

And that face. She had the constant scowl of a street tough, and dark angry eyes. But she could not hide the high cheekbones and arching eyebrows. The cute little dimpled chin and the bow-shaped mouth. God damn, she was an evil angel!

She finished her food after a while, but there were still ten minutes left to the period. Edward walked over to her desk and quietly placed his gradebook on the surface. The look she gave him could have wilted flowers, but she gave a slight nod.

After walking to the door and locking it, he walked back and stood near her. He pointed at a zero.

"I need to touch them," he said through suddenly dry lips. "I need to touch the skin."

She looked up at him and made no attempt to hide her disgust. With an involuntary shudder she said, "Three homeworks."

"Two," he said firmly.

She looked up at him with ferocious anger. No doubt thinking, how dare he barter down her body? Rage and disgust warred on her face.

Edward smiled at her small defeated nod. He also noticed that she was rubbing her thighs together again. Well, the feeling was mutual. He hated her too, and he was fiercely turned on as well.

She said, almost choking on her anger, "Three minutes. Touch don't look."

He swallowed greedily as he pulled up a chair next to her. She turned to face him, but her expression held no scrap of surrender. She gave him only disgust and hatred.

And he did not give one single fuck. "Stand up," he said gruffly.

She stood up slowly, and the contrast between the defiance of her face and the compliance of her body sent new blood surging into his already rock-hard cock.

He walked around behind her, noting that her perfect bubble-butt struggled to be gleaned through her plain Wal-Mart slacks. A dark thought crossed his mind. Time for that later. He shuddered with anticipation.

There were a lot of zeros in that book.

He moved forward and placed his hands slackly on her waist. He felt her twitch a bit in disgust and a fierce, ugly grin spread across his face. He rubbed his hands backwards and forwards until they slid under the loose hem of her hoodie.

His cock grew to painful rigidity when his palms touched the hot, soft flesh of the teen's waist. She trembled a little at his touch.

He moved his hands forward across her flat, tight tummy, and he felt her take a breath inward. He took his time, gently stroking her skin as he slowly raised his hands up her rib cage. He could feel her skin goose-bumping at his caresses.

No rush. No hurry. He took the time to enjoy the smoothness of her skin, the fine bones of her exquisite form, the smooth lateral muscles cording up from her hips, and her slowly increasing rate of breathing.

He had no doubt that she had been with men. In this neighborhood, there was almost no question she had gone all the way with someone. More likely multiple someones. But had anyone ever gone slow? Had anyone ever took the time to worship her perfect little body? Edward swore to himself: by the end of this, the rude little bitch would be begging for more.

His breath caught as his thumbs brushed against her underboob. Oh, those soft, gently heaving spheres of flesh! Oh, those lovely, heavy globes of sexual femininity!

Again, he took his time, circumscribing the curves, and only slowly turning his palms upward to gently cup her heavy breasts. Finally he gave himself the gift of a solid squeeze. Lifting from below, he gently kneaded and stroked the underside of her boobs. His eyebrows raised up as he heard her moan. She drew her breath in and leaned her head back.

This was more than he could take. He slid his palms up to where her rock-hard nipples were straining against her hoodie. Feeling her stiff arousal nearly pushed him over the edge. He delighted at the feel of the little pebbles rolling around under his palms.

She growled softly, saying "You fucking bastard..." as he pinched the nipples and rolled them between his thumb and forefingers. Then he just gripped her tits in the classic pose, thumb and forefinger circling the areola, fingers spreading downward to encompass as much hot tit-flesh as possible. He slowly jiggled them, enjoying their firm soft weight.

As he did this, she slumped back against him, and because of her height, the top of her head rested just under his chin. Her arms were lifted to allow him access to her aching breasts, and her breath was fast and shallow.

His cock was pulsing with desire as he began to squeeze gently but firmly away from her body, literally milking her huge firm tits. Over and over he squeezed and pulled, rotating his palms to increase the friction.

With a low groan she suddenly arched her ass against him and raised up on her tip-toes. This brought the top of her firm bubble-but flush into contact with his turgid penis. She started to gyrate her ass against his pole.

That's all it took. The feel of her athletic little body pressed against his fat belly. The sound of her moan. The feel of her taut titties in his hands. And now her ass rubbing against his painfully hard cock. It was just too much.

With a desperate howl, he cut loose. His hands spasmed on her firm tits as his cock exploded in his boxers. She continued to rub her ass against his twitching cock as he spewed jet after jet of hot sperm into his sticky pants. He was holding on to her tits like life preservers now, keeping him from falling over in paralyzed ecstasy.

As the final tremors racked his body, and the last few dribbles of sperm pulsed out of his satisfied cock, he heard the timer chirping.

Without a word, Joanna stepped forward, out of his arms, and pushed the button. He just stood there, barely able to stand, as she turned to him.

He was shocked by what he saw there. Disgust, yes. Hatred, yes... still there. But now, there was something more. A trace of smug victory!

He shook his head in disbelief as she grabbed her tray and walked out of the room. He was supposed to be in charge of the private sessions! This was his game! How dare she pretend victory? He had used her like a sex doll, damn it! He was the victor!

He went and sat down, trying to calm the feelings and emotions surging through him. He had to figure this out.

He had just had the best orgasm of his life. His whole body was still tingling from it. He knew he was addicted, but worse, she knew it too. But he still had the power, damn it. He still had the gradebook. He nodded confidently. Next time, he would make her cum. He would seize the power.

The bell rang for fifth period just as he remembered the massive spunk load sliming his still half-turgid cock and balls.

He was late to fifth period, having to duck out and rub away the worst of the mess with paper towels in the bathroom, but the rest of the day he smelled of semen and shame, and he could barely think straight.

When he got home that night, he did his best to stop himself. "I am a professional," said a weak voice in his head. "This is illegal," it said, in even fainter tones. "For the love of God, stop now before you destroy yourself," it said, as it was drowned in an ocean of hate-lust.

He went into his bedroom and took off his clothes.

"Goddamn bitch," he muttered as he lubed up his cock and started jerking.

*****

Four minutes until the bell for period three. Edward sat in his plush desk chair. He was looking at his grade book. Three of the homework zeros had now been replaced with sevens. That left six remaining homework zeros, six quiz zeros, and three test zeros. There were two weeks until the semester break. Ten school days. Well, now that it was Wednesday, seven more school days. He had to make them count.

The period passed as usual, Joanna doing her best to defy and humiliate him, and he doing his best not to lose his temper. Again, despite her hoodie and plain khaki pants, she radiated sexuality. He could see her squirming on her seat as she thrilled at his public discomfort. The evil fucking sexed-out bitch.

By the end of the session, she had two checks once again. Three checks was a call home, and the last thing Edward wanted was to bring that angry dad into the mix. Because of this, Joanna got away with more than she should have. She seemed to sense that he was reluctant to make that third check, and she exploited it. At one point he caught her surreptitiously tweaking a nipple as the class laughed at one of her rude quips.

After the bell rang and the class left, Edward was not sure he could take much more. He was being torn apart by conflicting emotions. Today had been one of the most emotionally draining 50 minutes of his life. She was getting worse. On the other hand, just thinking about her pinching her rock hard nipples with that hateful expression on her pretty little face... well, it drove him mad with lust. He was still hard thinking about it.

After fourth period, Edward was ready for lunch. He had the perfect plan. She walked into his classroom, open defiance stamped on her face as usual, as well as that new gleam of triumph. God, he actually hated her. How could anyone delight in the pain and suffering of another?

And yet, as she sat down and began eating, his cock was already painfully hard. Oh, he had plans for her today. Time to turn the tables.

When she was done, he went to the door and locked it, breaking both a law and his Code of Professional Ethics. Again. He walked over to her and pulled up a chair.

"Today's task," he said with a hoarse voice, "will not be like the others."

She just smirked at him.

"Today I will not touch you at all. You will touch yourself."

She looked a little surprised, and a little frightened, and Edward smiled. "Go ahead," he said, "Take off your pants."

Her face twisted into pure hatred. "You sick fuck." She seemed undecided so he risked a bluff.

"Well, I can always call home..."

Her glare intensified as a touch of fear mixed with the hatred. But she said, "Okay. But this is a test score."

Edward laughed. "I don't think so. I'm not even touching you. Let's call it four homework scores."

"You bastard," she seethed, "It's worth at least two quiz scores."

Edward said, "Let's say five homework."

"One quiz."

He felt a profound sense of victory. Not only was he humiliating her by forcing her to barter with her body, he had actually been willing to pay three quiz zeros for today's fun. He was getting a bargain sex show!

He sat back in his chair, relishing the moment as she grudgingly took off her khakis.

She was wearing lime green pastel panties. Kind of on the little-girl side, but very sexy nonetheless. The warm bronze of her skin-tone contrasted nicely with the fresh lime of the soft cotton panties. Edward sat back to enjoy his victory, his cock raging in his pants.

She moved a finger down and placed in on her panties, just where her clit would be. She pressed down softly and said, "How long?"

An ugly smile creased his face. "Until you cum."

She shivered in disgust. But she said nothing.

Edward glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes. Plenty of time.

She began by rubbing that forefinger in small circles over her panties. She closed her eyes, clearly trying to imagine herself anywhere but where she was.

After a few moments of this, she began to lightly trace the material downwards, clearly outlining the shape of her outer lips. She shivered a little at the touch, and her breathing becoming more rapid.

She alternated between pushing against the top with circular pressure and stroking along the sides of her slit.

Edward's eyes grew wide and his cock surged when he saw a damp patch appear low on the panties. The little minx was really getting off!

She just kept stroking, and the wet patch kept growing. Finally, with a moan of impatience, she pushed a finger deeply against the heart of the wet patch. Her finger sunk in about an inch, panties and all.

Edward could not suppress a moan of appreciation. What a hot sexy little girl! She was gushing!

Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was once again taken aback by the disgust and hatred in those dark brown eyes. With a strange expression of hateful challenge, she reached down with her other hand and began to slowly pull the material away from her crotch.

His eyes fixed on her crotch. As she pulled aside the damp green cloth, a single strand of clear goo stretched between it and the most beautiful little pussy he'd ever seen.

She had a natural bush, trimmed back to bikini lines. The kind that trails down both sides of the pussy lips like God intended. His eyes went wide at the sight. The hair on either side of the slit was matted and slimy with her excitement. Her lips looked like a tender flower that had somehow become enraged and slimy. They were beautiful, tapering up to a dainty little clitoral hood, from which poked an erect little nubbin.