**Detention with Ms. Carter**

I never thought I’d actually *want* to stay after school, but here I was, sitting alone in Ms. Carter’s classroom, watching her grade papers at her desk. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few dark curls escaping to frame her face. The top button of her blouse was undone, and when she leaned forward, I caught a glimpse of smooth cleavage.

She glanced up at me over her glasses, those sharp brown eyes locking onto mine. “You’re still here?”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Thought I’d… wait until you finished.”

She smirked, setting her pen down. “Oh, really? Or were you just hoping for a little extra attention?”

Fuck. My dick twitched in my jeans. I didn’t even know how to answer that.

Ms. Carter stood up and slowly walked toward me, her heels clicking on the floor. She stopped right in front of my desk, then casually perched herself on the edge, her skirt riding up just enough to show a hint of thigh. “You’ve been staring all semester,” she murmured. “Tell me, what exactly do you want?”

My mouth went dry. “You.”

She laughed, low and knowing. “Finally, some honesty.”

Before I could process what was happening, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me up from the chair. Her free hand went straight to my crotch, palming my hard cock through my jeans. I let out a rough groan as she squeezed, her nails digging in just enough to make me shiver.

“You’re already this hard for me?” she whispered, leaning in until her lips brushed my ear. “Good. I *like* desperate boys.”

Her fingers worked my belt open, then my zipper, and in seconds she had my dick in her hand, stroking me slowly. I groaned, my hips jerking into her grip.

“Quiet,” she ordered, tightening her fingers around my shaft. “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?”

I shook my head, panting as she jerked me off, her thumb swiping over the wet tip.

“I think you can take more,” she murmured, pulling her hand away. I nearly whined at the loss, but then she turned around, bending over the desk in front of me. My breath caught—her skirt was hiked up now, her ass on full display, only a thin strip of black lace covering her.

“Ever fucked a teacher before?” she asked, glancing back at me with a smirk.

“No,” I admitted, my voice rough.

“Then you better make it good.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I grabbed her hips, pulling that tiny thong aside, and groaned at the sight of her tight little hole, already glistening. My cock ached, desperate to be inside her.

“You want my ass?” she breathed.

“Fuck, *yes*.”

She reached back, spreading herself for me, and I spat into my hand, rubbing the slick mess over my dick before pressing against her.

“Slow,” she warned, but I could hear the hunger in her voice.

I pushed in, inch by inch, her tight hole stretching around me with a wet, filthy sound. She moaned, low and throaty, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” I gritted out, my hips jerking forward.

“Deeper,” she demanded.

I obeyed, burying myself completely, feeling her walls clench around me. Then I pulled back and thrust in again, harder this time, making her gasp.

“Oh, *fuck*,” she moaned, arching her back. “Just like that.”

I fucked her harder, my balls slapping against her as I pounded into that tight ass. She was so warm, so fucking perfect, and every thrust dragged another moan out of her.

“You like this?” I growled, gripping her hips tight enough to bruise.

“Yes,” she hissed. “You feel so *good*.”

Her pussy was dripping now, her wetness soaking her thighs. I reached around, finding her clit and rubbing fast circles over it. She cried out, her body trembling around my cock.

“I’m gonna come,” she gasped.

“Do it,” I urged, fucking her harder, faster.

Her whole body tensed, and her ass clenched around me as she came, her moans muffled by her own hand. The way she tightened up pushed me over the edge—I slammed into her one last time and groaned as I emptied myself deep inside her.

We both stayed there for a second, panting. Then she straightened up, smoothing her skirt down like nothing had happened before turning to face me.

“Clean yourself up,” she said. “And don’t be late tomorrow.”

I was definitely *never* skipping her class again.