The First Situation
Allen would be wondering how he'd winded up in this situation, but…he was somewhat distracted. Zokalo had him trapped against the floor, crushed between cold tile and a rock-hard torso. He can't fully expand his lungs—is perpetually short of breath but—for some reason…he really, really does not have a problem with this fact. The immense weight on his front, the painful press of his hips and shoulders against unyielding ceramic makes him want to writhe and purr.
Zokalo's half-hard prick is a hot weight pressing on his inside thigh. He wants to move against that heat, incite the man above him into frenzy—but, dude, he's a teacher, a grown man, and Allen's no jailbait.
He tries to ignore the saliva gathering around his tongue, swallowing noisily.
"U-um…Mr. Winters." Shit. His voice is rough with arousal to his own ears. When in doubt, state the obvious. "You're lying on top of me-"
He feels the older man's responding rumble in his chest, barely has the time register the move before Zokalo has stopped up his mouth with his tongue.
Allen stiffens in shock, arching his hips into the immense weight and bracing his hands against Zokalo's shoulders, pushing but—oh…g-god. A strangled groan makes it way through his throat, riding on a thin current of air from squashed lungs.
Distantly, Allen marvels at the difference. He's shared plenty of kisses—but this—he's not kissing Zokalo. He hesitates to think of it as being kissed. He feels like a tower under siege, more than anything, as weird a comparison that is—
Zokalo's elbows rest on the floor at either side of his head. The larger man has his neck turned at an awkward and surely uncomfortable angle to reach Allen's mouth. He licks and sucks and bites; all Allen's allowed to do is hold his lips apart, mouth so wide his jaw begins to ache, and whimper as Zokalo's tough-skinned hands grip him firmly beneath his arms and lift him from ground. One hand support his ass, holding him up as Allen stumbles to adjusts to the change, hugging the big man's sides with his knees to steady himself and whining as his mouth is attacked and he's so hard it's burning and—
The bell rings, and Zokalo unceremoniously drops him to his feet, turning to leave the showers even as he wipes saliva from the edges of his mouth.
Allen doesn't even try to stand. His knees buckle the moment his feet touch the floor, and he's still there, mouth red and debating how to deal with his hard-on when the fifth period gym class pours loudly into the locker rooms.
:D
-Oceans