**Detention Duty**

I never thought I’d be the kind of teacher who’d let things go this far, but here I am, watching Adam shift in his chair at the back of my empty classroom, his cock straining against his jeans. The late afternoon sunlight slants through the blinds, casting stripes across his broad shoulders. He’s here for detention—again—but I know damn well neither of us is thinking about his missing homework.

“Sir,” he murmurs, that cocky smirk playing at his lips. He knows what he’s doing. “This is kinda boring. Maybe you could… keep me busy?”

My throat goes tight. I should shut this down. I *should*. But his knee brushes against mine under the desk, and I suck in a breath. Fuck. His hand slides into his lap, adjusting himself with a slow, deliberate squeeze right in front of me.

“Adam,” I warn, but my voice is rough.

He leans forward, forearms on the desk, his smirk turning dangerous. “You’ve been staring at me all semester,” he says, low enough that if anyone walked in, they’d miss it. “Bet you think about me. Bet you wanna touch me.”

I swallow hard. He’s right. I’ve imagined him in my office after hours, imagined that mouth of his wrapped around my cock while his fingers dig into my thighs.

The classroom door is unlocked. Anyone could walk in. That just makes it hotter.

Adam doesn’t wait for permission. He stands—slow, deliberate—and steps around the desk, dropping smoothly to his knees in front of my chair. My pulse spikes. His hands settle on my thighs, fingers spreading as he looks up at me through his lashes. “Let me take care of you, sir,” he murmurs, and then his fingers are undoing my belt, pulling my pants open.

My cock springs free, already half-hard just from the way he’s looking at it. Adam licks his lips, then leans in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the head. I grit my teeth, trying to stay quiet, but fuck, his tongue swirls around me, hot and wet. He takes me deeper, inch by inch, until my dick hits the back of his throat.

“Jesus,” I hiss, gripping the arms of the chair. His mouth is tight and slick, his tongue working me with every bob of his head. He hums around me, the vibration making my hips jerk.

Adam pulls off just enough to smirk at me, lips glistening. “You taste so good,” he murmurs before diving back down, swallowing me to the root. His nose presses into my stomach, his throat flexing as he takes every inch.

I can’t help it—I grab his hair, guiding him faster. His cheeks hollow as he sucks hard, his fingers digging into my thighs. Pre-cum leaks from my tip, and he laps it up greedily.

Then—footsteps in the hall.

We freeze. Adam keeps his mouth on me as the footsteps pause just outside the door. My heart hammers. A second passes. Two. Then the footsteps move on.

Adam pulls back just enough to grin. “Almost got caught,” he whispers, breath hot against my spit-slick cock.

“You little shit,” I growl, hauling him up by his shirt. His pupils are blown, lips red and swollen. I crush my mouth against his, tasting myself on his tongue. He moans into the kiss, grinding his hips against mine.

I shove him back onto the desk, papers scattering. His belt clinks as I rip it open, jerking his jeans down just enough to free his cock—hard and leaking, twitching against his stomach.

“Fuck, sir,” Adam gasps as I stroke him, twisting my fist around the head.

“Quiet,” I order, but my voice is wrecked. I spit into my palm and stroke him faster, thumb rubbing over his slit. His hips buck, his breath coming in rough pants.

Then his hand is fumbling between us, pushing my boxers down further, fingers grazing my balls before sliding lower, pressing against my hole.

I groan, thighs shaking. “Jesus—Adam—”

He grins, pressing in with one finger, just enough to make my cock throb. “You like that?” he breathes. “Bet nobody knows you’re this fucking desperate for it.”

I’m close. Too close. His finger works me in shallow thrusts while I jerk him off, his cock hot and hard in my grip.

“Gonna come,” he gasps, back arching.

“Do it,” I growl.

Adam’s whole body stiffens as he spills over my fist, hot stripes painting his stomach. The sight of him coming undone tips me over the edge—I stroke myself twice before I’m pulsing over his fingers, my cum dripping down his knuckles.

For a second, the only sound is our ragged breathing.

Then Adam licks his lips, lifting his hand to his mouth, and sucks my cum off his fingers, eyes locked on mine.

“Next time,” he murmurs, “let’s not wait until detention.”

Fuck. I’m in trouble.