Alfred F. Jones had always found Literature exceedingly boring. In fact it was even more boring than Algebra, and that was saying something. He could hardly say that he himself was the worst student – he was, of course, one of the best. He just... Didn’t show it much. Ever. His classmates were not the most diligent students, but they usually perked up half-heartedly whenever a new teacher showed up. And, half way through the school year, a new teacher showed up.
He stalked in, a foul frown on his lips and an odd straightness in his posture that made Alfred certain that the poor man had something stuck up his arse – he could hardly hold back the snigger. All his efforts at retaining his humour were ruined, however, when a student at the back put up their hands and asked the one question that had been on the mind of almost everyone since the teacher walked in.
“Sir? I think you... Um... I think you have some caterpillars stuck to your face.”
The teacher froze, turning to find the student amongst the rabble that he was being forced to teach. Finding the boy, Alfred watched as the man straightened, glaring viciously at the poor child who wilted in his chair. He opened mouth and shouted as though it was the last thing he would ever say.
“Are you some kind of bloody fool? They are not caterpillars, they are my eyebrows, and are quite popular within British society. Now get out your copies of the play, and hurry up.” Alfred stared, taken aback. Most young teachers were usually nervous, especially around “high school kids”, but this new teacher seemed confident. He merely strode to the front of the room and grabbed a piece of chalk, turning to the board. Writing the page numbers and his name, he gave the class a meaningful look before sitting down.
Oh, and he was hot. He was obviously from England or something like that, seeing as his outburst had been filled with the posh, phoney British tone that he was so used to hearing on television - which was maybe why Alfred had been discreetly observing him from behind his Macbeth script for most of the period. He had dark, scruffy blond hair and, despite those freakish fuzzy brows, pretty nice eyes. Not that Alfred thought that anything was pretty. “If you have finished your silent reading, we will move on to reading aloud. The best way to enjoy a piece of good literature is to, of course, perform it.” The new teacher—Arthur Kirkland, kinda reminding Alfred of that stupid story of an English king—looked over the class list with a sigh, obviously unimpressed with what he saw. Closing his eyes and moving his finger up and down, he pressed the digit against a name.
“Alfred Jones. Scene VII. Read the protagonist’s speech, if you please.” Kirkland’s voice was pretty deep for a guy of his... pretty small size. It was probably what allowed him to give the illusion that he was in charge – not that Alfred was going to believe it. He’d been dubbed the Class Hero, always cracking jokes and being the one to get them all out of detention. As if he’d stop because there was a new teacher. Around the class, various students hid amused grins behind their books.
“Sure, whatever, fuzzy brows.” The teacher spluttered, hand twitching, but he said nothing.
“If it were done when it’s pretty damned well done, it was done kinda quickly – wait, they’re killing someone? Awesome - that ol’ assassination... thing, could work up a consequence and catch with success-”
“Stop! Stop!” The Englishman at the front of the room looked mortified. Alfred smirked and crossed his legs under the desk.
“Was that an attempt to be funny, Mr Jones?”
“... You catch on quick, huh?” The man was shaking with rage, but Alfred just looked relaxed. Slamming his script on the table, the teacher glared at his student.
When the bell chimed for the end of the lesson – and, unfortunately, the day – Alfred’s fellow classmates made the daily dash for freedom. Stuffing his books into his bag, the teen lounged in his chair, watching as his teacher rubbed the chalk words from the board. When the Englishman turned back to his student, he motioned for him to come up to the front of the room. Dumping his bag, Alfred sauntered over. The man instantly began to shout abuse at him for his ‘lack of respect when it comes to pure English brilliance’ and how he had ‘defaced one of the most respected and well-read scripts of all time’. After a moment, Alfred got bored and looked for a way out of this mess. Catching the man’s eye, he smirked. Seeing the flush across his teacher’s face, he grinned.
Waiting for the other man to walk and sit back at his desk after commanding him to write lines, he moved into action.
Alfred dropped his pencil, and it rolled under the desk. Time to get his own back for the detention, as well as have a little fun of his own – all’s fair in love and war, right? He was sure that came from some literature mumbo jumbo. He moved around the desk, watching the wary look on his teacher’s face. Alfred moved and picked up his pencil, making a point to stand up and ever so innocently place his hand for on the teacher’s chair for support.
It was just a shame his hand found Kirkland’s crotch instead.
“M-Mr Jones!” Arthur squealed in shock.
“Sorry, sir,” Alfred replied with a smirk, not moving his hand away. “I was watching you all throughout the lesson... and I wondered what you looked like without your clothes on. Call it curiosity.”
The teacher jumped in his seat, trying to get as far away from the boy as possible. “Mr Jones, t-that is not something that you should be saying to a teacher! Bloody hell, you could get me fired!” He’d already been in trouble once due to some perverted dolt that tried to come onto him in class. Bloody French bastards.
“You’ll change your mind.” Alfred said, moving his hand to caress his teacher through his trousers. The man jumped again, making a noise in the back of his throat. Alfred knew he’d won.
“Mr Jones, h-honestly-”
“Alfred. I’m called Alfred, Arthur~”
He easily fended off Arthur’s ineffectual resistance as he unzipped the fly of his trousers. “Ssshhh, you don’t want to make so much noise. We’re already in a compromising position. I thought you didn’t want to be caught like this on the first day? Stop squirming, it’s annoying.” The American asked as he crouched between his teacher’s knees, still gently massaging him through the thin stretch fabric of the briefs. Moving to hold down his teacher’s thighs, Alfred pressed his tongue against his crotch. He was almost hit in the face by Arthur’s knee.
“N-No, teachers d-don’t-Ahh!” All protests stopped when Alfred tongued his balls through the damp fabric of his briefs and slipped a finger between his buttocks. “Mmmm, that's better, isn't it?” Alfred smirked, licking Arthur’s cock through the flimsy material. He liked to keep their clothes on until the last possible minute, but perhaps it was time to unwrap his present.
When the American pulled down the black briefs, he was rewarded by the sight of a growing erection. “You're really into it, huh.” he said with a grin before he eagerly lapped at the head of the Englishman’s cock. Arthur pushed feebly at Alfred’s shoulders. Glancing up in the middle of his ministrations, Alfred saw that the man was flushed and sweaty with his eyes screwed shut as he was forced to endure this torture.
He couldn't stop himself. Moving swiftly, he lifted his teacher up and slipped under him, resting o the chair happily, his own hard-on straining against his trousers. Letting his hands wander down, feeling Arthur's blood pumping under his steady fingertips, he smirked. Fingers brushing against the man's chest, he moved to suck at his neck lightly.
“Do you know what I want to do with you, sir?” Alfred asked as he started to unbutton his teacher’s shirt. He whispered the dark, erotic things into his teacher's ear, hands moving to tweak the other man's nipples, the American delighting in the moans falling from his lips, the blush building on his cheeks.
"I'm going to screw you at lunch in the staff room-"
Shifting his hold on his teacher, he moved and freed himself from his own trousers.
“... Fuck you over the desk in the Head's office..."
Groaning helplessly, Arthur could not resist letting Alfred's fingers penetrating him, stretching him painfully. Pumping his fingers gently, Alfred waited for the pain to leave the other man’s face before he replaced his digits with his cock. Arthur was thrashing his head, moaning loudly at the student’s touches, flushed and breathing heavily.
“If you always make this much noise, though, we’d never be able to do it in the Principal’s office,” Alfred sighed as though sad before he thrust quickly into his teacher. The pain cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming him, before his student moved to tip his head back, kissing him to silence the noise. Everything seemed to slow down as their lips pressed against each other's hard, tongue's duelling for dominance. Eventually, Alfred's thrusts quickened and all that Arthur could do was pant and twitch, gasping in time to the movements, shaking.
“Do you want this now?” Alfred asked, slowing down and reaching down to encircle Arthur’s cock with his hand, gripping it lightly.
“Nnnmmhh...” Alfred squeezed his teacher's cock gently, moving to suck at his neck again. His partner moaned, throwing his head back and moving closer.
“Yes, Sir?” Alfred asked.
“P-please... Alfred... I--please...”
“A-All you have to do is ask, fuzzy.” Alfred stood up and eased his teacher over the desk, pressing deeper inside of him. The man moaned and Alfred sped up, thrusting fast and hard into Arthur, delighting in the moans he encouraged from his partner.
“Ahh... Ahh... Ahhh...” Arthur was reduced to a quivering ball of anticipation as Alfred continually hit something inside of him that made him want to cry for more. Gasping and sobbing with every breath, Arthur braced himself against the desk as he neared his climax.
“A-Arthur...” Alfred murmured softly as he started to stroke his teacher’s cock. That was enough to send the Englishman over the edge and Alfred felt Arthur's muscles clench around his cock, triggering off his own intense orgasm.
Breathing heavily, the American lifted himself off his teacher, who was sprawled across his desk in a post-coital daze. He noted with satisfaction the trail of semen leaking from his teacher-turned-lover's fairly well-stretched asshole.
Sated and dazed, Arthur thought that it was all over until he felt the warmth of a mouth at his ear and heard a husky voice saying, “So, want to do it again?”
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(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 03:27 am (UTC)(link)high school.
with arthur as a teacher.
OHOHOHOHOHO HOW SCANDALOUS
Untitled [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 06:07 am (UTC)(link)He stalked in, a foul frown on his lips and an odd straightness in his posture that made Alfred certain that the poor man had something stuck up his arse – he could hardly hold back the snigger. All his efforts at retaining his humour were ruined, however, when a student at the back put up their hands and asked the one question that had been on the mind of almost everyone since the teacher walked in.
“Sir? I think you... Um... I think you have some caterpillars stuck to your face.”
The teacher froze, turning to find the student amongst the rabble that he was being forced to teach. Finding the boy, Alfred watched as the man straightened, glaring viciously at the poor child who wilted in his chair. He opened mouth and shouted as though it was the last thing he would ever say.
“Are you some kind of bloody fool? They are not caterpillars, they are my eyebrows, and are quite popular within British society. Now get out your copies of the play, and hurry up.” Alfred stared, taken aback. Most young teachers were usually nervous, especially around “high school kids”, but this new teacher seemed confident. He merely strode to the front of the room and grabbed a piece of chalk, turning to the board. Writing the page numbers and his name, he gave the class a meaningful look before sitting down.
Oh, and he was hot. He was obviously from England or something like that, seeing as his outburst had been filled with the posh, phoney British tone that he was so used to hearing on television - which was maybe why Alfred had been discreetly observing him from behind his Macbeth script for most of the period. He had dark, scruffy blond hair and, despite those freakish fuzzy brows, pretty nice eyes. Not that Alfred thought that anything was pretty.
“If you have finished your silent reading, we will move on to reading aloud. The best way to enjoy a piece of good literature is to, of course, perform it.” The new teacher—Arthur Kirkland, kinda reminding Alfred of that stupid story of an English king—looked over the class list with a sigh, obviously unimpressed with what he saw. Closing his eyes and moving his finger up and down, he pressed the digit against a name.
“Alfred Jones. Scene VII. Read the protagonist’s speech, if you please.” Kirkland’s voice was pretty deep for a guy of his... pretty small size. It was probably what allowed him to give the illusion that he was in charge – not that Alfred was going to believe it. He’d been dubbed the Class Hero, always cracking jokes and being the one to get them all out of detention. As if he’d stop because there was a new teacher. Around the class, various students hid amused grins behind their books.
“Sure, whatever, fuzzy brows.” The teacher spluttered, hand twitching, but he said nothing.
“If it were done when it’s pretty damned well done, it was done kinda quickly – wait, they’re killing someone? Awesome - that ol’ assassination... thing, could work up a consequence and catch with success-”
“Stop! Stop!” The Englishman at the front of the room looked mortified. Alfred smirked and crossed his legs under the desk.
“Was that an attempt to be funny, Mr Jones?”
“... You catch on quick, huh?” The man was shaking with rage, but Alfred just looked relaxed. Slamming his script on the table, the teacher glared at his student.
“You. After class. Detention. An hour.”
Alfred sighed. It was worth it.
Untitled [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 06:08 am (UTC)(link)Waiting for the other man to walk and sit back at his desk after commanding him to write lines, he moved into action.
Alfred dropped his pencil, and it rolled under the desk. Time to get his own back for the detention, as well as have a little fun of his own – all’s fair in love and war, right? He was sure that came from some literature mumbo jumbo. He moved around the desk, watching the wary look on his teacher’s face. Alfred moved and picked up his pencil, making a point to stand up and ever so innocently place his hand for on the teacher’s chair for support.
It was just a shame his hand found Kirkland’s crotch instead.
“M-Mr Jones!” Arthur squealed in shock.
“Sorry, sir,” Alfred replied with a smirk, not moving his hand away. “I was watching you all throughout the lesson... and I wondered what you looked like without your clothes on. Call it curiosity.”
The teacher jumped in his seat, trying to get as far away from the boy as possible. “Mr Jones, t-that is not something that you should be saying to a teacher! Bloody hell, you could get me fired!” He’d already been in trouble once due to some perverted dolt that tried to come onto him in class. Bloody French bastards.
“You’ll change your mind.” Alfred said, moving his hand to caress his teacher through his trousers. The man jumped again, making a noise in the back of his throat. Alfred knew he’d won.
“Mr Jones, h-honestly-”
“Alfred. I’m called Alfred, Arthur~”
He easily fended off Arthur’s ineffectual resistance as he unzipped the fly of his trousers. “Ssshhh, you don’t want to make so much noise. We’re already in a compromising position. I thought you didn’t want to be caught like this on the first day? Stop squirming, it’s annoying.” The American asked as he crouched between his teacher’s knees, still gently massaging him through the thin stretch fabric of the briefs. Moving to hold down his teacher’s thighs, Alfred pressed his tongue against his crotch. He was almost hit in the face by Arthur’s knee.
“Y-You, w-what’re you doing, y-you blood-”
“I’d think that was pretty obvious.”
Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 06:09 am (UTC)(link)When the American pulled down the black briefs, he was rewarded by the sight of a growing erection. “You're really into it, huh.” he said with a grin before he eagerly lapped at the head of the Englishman’s cock. Arthur pushed feebly at Alfred’s shoulders. Glancing up in the middle of his ministrations, Alfred saw that the man was flushed and sweaty with his eyes screwed shut as he was forced to endure this torture.
He couldn't stop himself. Moving swiftly, he lifted his teacher up and slipped under him, resting o the chair happily, his own hard-on straining against his trousers. Letting his hands wander down, feeling Arthur's blood pumping under his steady fingertips, he smirked. Fingers brushing against the man's chest, he moved to suck at his neck lightly.
“Do you know what I want to do with you, sir?” Alfred asked as he started to unbutton his teacher’s shirt. He whispered the dark, erotic things into his teacher's ear, hands moving to tweak the other man's nipples, the American delighting in the moans falling from his lips, the blush building on his cheeks.
"I'm going to screw you at lunch in the staff room-"
Shifting his hold on his teacher, he moved and freed himself from his own trousers.
“... Fuck you over the desk in the Head's office..."
Groaning helplessly, Arthur could not resist letting Alfred's fingers penetrating him, stretching him painfully. Pumping his fingers gently, Alfred waited for the pain to leave the other man’s face before he replaced his digits with his cock. Arthur was thrashing his head, moaning loudly at the student’s touches, flushed and breathing heavily.
“If you always make this much noise, though, we’d never be able to do it in the Principal’s office,” Alfred sighed as though sad before he thrust quickly into his teacher. The pain cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming him, before his student moved to tip his head back, kissing him to silence the noise. Everything seemed to slow down as their lips pressed against each other's hard, tongue's duelling for dominance. Eventually, Alfred's thrusts quickened and all that Arthur could do was pant and twitch, gasping in time to the movements, shaking.
“Do you want this now?” Alfred asked, slowing down and reaching down to encircle Arthur’s cock with his hand, gripping it lightly.
“Nnnmmhh...” Alfred squeezed his teacher's cock gently, moving to suck at his neck again. His partner moaned, throwing his head back and moving closer.
“Yes, Sir?” Alfred asked.
“P-please... Alfred... I--please...”
“A-All you have to do is ask, fuzzy.” Alfred stood up and eased his teacher over the desk, pressing deeper inside of him. The man moaned and Alfred sped up, thrusting fast and hard into Arthur, delighting in the moans he encouraged from his partner.
“Ahh... Ahh... Ahhh...” Arthur was reduced to a quivering ball of anticipation as Alfred continually hit something inside of him that made him want to cry for more. Gasping and sobbing with every breath, Arthur braced himself against the desk as he neared his climax.
“A-Arthur...” Alfred murmured softly as he started to stroke his teacher’s cock. That was enough to send the Englishman over the edge and Alfred felt Arthur's muscles clench around his cock, triggering off his own intense orgasm.
Breathing heavily, the American lifted himself off his teacher, who was sprawled across his desk in a post-coital daze. He noted with satisfaction the trail of semen leaking from his teacher-turned-lover's fairly well-stretched asshole.
Sated and dazed, Arthur thought that it was all over until he felt the warmth of a mouth at his ear and heard a husky voice saying, “So, want to do it again?”
----------------------------------------------------
Sorry for any typos/epic fail |D It's 6am and I haven't slept~
Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 06:28 am (UTC)(link)♥ That was hot.
OP
(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 07:06 am (UTC)(link)Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 04:05 pm (UTC)(link)You win internetz.
Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-03 05:29 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-04 12:18 am (UTC)(link)Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-04 12:58 am (UTC)(link)especially alfred shagging him in the staff room during lunch ♥Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-01-04 10:42 am (UTC)(link)Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-02-05 12:35 am (UTC)(link)You know what they say... You can sleep when you're dead.
Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-14 12:11 am (UTC)(link)Very hot. <333
Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2009-12-22 10:01 pm (UTC)(link)Would you like my soul wrapped or just in it's jar?
Re: Untitled [3/3]
(Anonymous) 2010-04-24 04:34 am (UTC)(link)