I believe you've been waiting for this one ;)

5

"Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires." - William Shakespeare, Macbeth

oXo

I rest my elbows on my desk, staring out at the class as they mooch to their seats. Angela gives me a small smile when she picks up her paper, and I dip my head ever so slightly. She's one of the most talented students I've had the pleasure to teach.

There's only one word on her pop quiz.

Excellent.

I see Isabella in the corner of my eye and look down, keeping my focus on the file in front of me.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen," she chirps.

I don't acknowledge her, flicking the file over and pretending to study it with a frown.

I hear her sigh as she turns to go to her seat, and I glance up at her retreating form. My mouth goes dry. She's wearing a tiny lilac-coloured skirt, the material floating around her thighs, barely covering her plump ass. As she settles in her seat, her eyes go straight to her paper, and I force my gaze away.

"In your pop quiz, I asked you whether you thought Julia and Winston loved each other," I state, staring out at my students. Isabella's bent over her desk, a furrow between her eyebrows as she grips the paper. "There were starkly contrasting ideas amongst you–some of you said yes, some said no, some"–I glance at Isabella–"offered a deeper evaluation. I want to talk now, about whether you think something as fluid and abstract as emotion can be used as a device to control a populous…"

I look back at Isabella and swallow hard. Her legs are fucking spread wide-open under her desk.

Christ.

I stare at her midnight-blue, lacy thong for a moment before I glance back up. The second I meet her hooded brown eyes I feel a jolt go down my spine. Isabella shivers and my gaze lowers to her perky tits. Her hard nipples are pressing through the sheer material, the slight dark-pink shadow making my mouth go dry.

I imagine sucking her tight buds through the thin material, hearing her cry out for me as she feels that hot, wet warmth surrounding her sensitive nipple. I could lick her little pussy through that thong too, make her beg me to pull it aside and stick my tongue into her tight opening.

I want to taste her.

I force my gaze away and try to focus on teaching, but after a while, my eyes drift back to her, just like always. Her eyes are closed, and I find myself glancing down between her legs again.

My hand tightens into a fist.

Fuck. Me.

Her hand is resting on her pussy.

I quickly look away from her, but my cock is throbbing in my slacks, my pulse pounding. I clutch at the book on the desk, just to have something to hold onto.

After a few minutes, my eyes find her again and I almost make a noise out loud when I see what she's doing.

Jesus fucking Christ.

She's touching herself.

Isabella's fingers move in slow circles against her underwear, and when she shifts slightly in her seat, I drop my book and clasp my hands together, squeezing tight, my cock pressing hard against the seam of my slacks.

Teaching. I'm fucking teaching.

And Isabella is...Christ.

I can't take my eyes off her, operating on autopilot as she rubs her pussy right in front of me. So fucking naughty. I want to go over there and replace her hands with mine, rip that thong off her, fuck her.

She looks so fucking hot touching herself. Getting herself off in a class full of students, right in front of her fucking teacher. Is this a stunt to get me to give in? Or do I just make her this fucking horny?

Her lips part, her tits heaving as she stares at my mouth.

Is it both? Does she want me just as badly as I want her? Does she want to sit on my cock right now?

I'm struggling to keep talking, my words feeling disjointed as they come out of my mouth; I'm holding my pencil so tightly it's hurting my palm.

"—and that's why Winston is..." I falter as Isabella's eyes go wide, her body shaking.

Her mouth falls open, and I clench my jaw. Is she going to fucking come? Her eyes meet mine, heavy and hooded, and she suddenly throws back her head, teeth gritting together as she shakes, her chest heaving.

I snap the pencil I'm holding, the jagged ends digging into my palms. It almost rips me apart, having to keep my expression neutral, because internally I'm fucking dying.

She just made herself come in front of me. For me.

Isabella's legs stay parted as she moves her hand from her pussy, and the sight of that darker blue material, pressing against her lips almost makes me groan out loud. She's fucking soaked.

I want to see her wet, swollen little pussy hiding under that thong. I want to lick her all over, taste her, feel her dripping over my face and tongue. Make her scream my fucking name.

I force my gaze away and notice the class staring at me, some of them looking perplexed.

I clear my throat and cough. "Apologies. I lost my train of thought. As I was saying, fear is what broke Winston's resolve. The state utilised a key human emotion, a negative human emotion, and in the moment, that emotion overtook all others—but is it possible that's because he didn't truly love Julia? Or is it true that negative emotions like fear, outshine positive emotions like love?"

I try to keep my eyes away from Isabella, but I can't fucking help myself. The naughty girl keeps her thighs spread wide the whole class while she sucks at her pen and my skin feels as though it's electrified, an ache at the base of my hard cock that won't go away.

When the bell goes, I sigh in relief. I need to go home and touch my cock before I fucking explode.

On her way out, Isabella pauses at my desk, a satisfied little smile playing at her lips, her cheeks still flushed from her climax.

Knowing how fucking wet she must be, knowing how easily my cock would slide into her little pussy right now, is torture, and I have to grip my thigh under the desk to stop myself launching out of my chair and bending her over.

"Great class, Mr. Cullen," Isabella purrs, biting her bottom lip. "I thoroughly enjoyed it."

She's such a cheeky minx.

I have to fight the urge to laugh on top of the baser urges that are currently keeping me rooted to my seat. Isabella's eyes widen as she stares at me and she stumbles out the room, faltering at the door for a moment before she shakes her head and walks through it.

I grip the desk with my other hand as the rest of my students filter out, my heart pounding in my chest, my cock harder than fucking steel.

When I've waited long enough, I make my escape, darting behind a pillar to avoid Miss Dash when I spot her sauntering towards my classroom. God forbid she sees me hard and tries to fucking touch me or offer to help out...Christ.

The thought of her is enough to make me limp, and swiftly, I stride out of school, my tight jaw and stiff body a warning for anyone interested in trying to talk to me.

Luckily, no one does, and I breathe out a sigh of relief when I get into my car, hot air blasting at me from the vents as the sound of Brahms' Hungarian Dance fills the small space. The music is a building crescendo of increasing tension, one that mirrors my internal thoughts far too accurately.

I pull out of my space, fingers wrapping tightly around the steering wheel, and then freeze as I watch Isabella run past me, throwing herself into the arms of her blonde friend. Her little skirt flies up and the sight of her blue thong causes a jolt to snap down my spine, all the blood in my body going straight to my cock.

"Fuck," I spit, forcing my eyes off her and pushing the car into first. Brahms makes way for Chopin and I wrench up the volume, praying the soft piano will help calm down the burning hunger that's currently consuming me.

I want to get out of the car, walk over there, and throw her over my shoulder—take her somewhere so I can rip that soaked thong off and bury my tongue in her wet pussy.

After a few minutes, I start to relax, the AC finally kicking on and filling my car with an icy breeze. The reprieve doesn't last long; I barely make it to the first set of lights before I'm replaying Isabella touching herself, my cock stiff and pressing against my slacks almost instantly.

"Christ," I groan, gripping the steering wheel harder. I'm staring at the road, but all I can see is Isabella's hooded brown eyes, her creamy thighs spread open, dainty fingers rubbing that soaked blue thong. The way her mouth parted in shock when she realised she was going to fucking come, her little body shaking as her head tilted back, her chest heaving.

It takes every bit of concentration I have not to touch my cock while I drive; it's fucking throbbing, my balls aching.

The second I get through the front door to my apartment, I'm unbuttoning my slacks.

My eyes roll back in my head at the release of the pressure, and I grip my aching cock in my hand, groaning. "Fuck!"

I'm soaked with pre-cum, and I gather it with my thumb and then place a hand on the door for stability as I start roughly pumping my fist over my cock, my head swimming with thoughts of Isabella.

I imagine her back in the classroom, pushing her soaking thong to the side, letting me see her pink little pussy, glistening with her arousal. My cock twitches in my hand, and I clench my jaw, my neck straining.

I watch her push her fingers inside herself, her mouth parting as she looks at me, licking her full lips.

"Please, sir, I need your cock," she whispers.

I stride across the room and rip those fingers out of her pussy, sucking them into my mouth and tasting her sweetness on my tongue. I want to bury my face between her shapely legs, but she gets to her knees instead, staring up at me as she takes my cock in her little hand. Her brown eyes are hooded as she looks at me, moaning. It looks so big next to her face, her hands barely getting around me as she whimpers, staring at me hungrily.

"You like that big cock, Isabella?" I ask her roughly. "Put me in your mouth."

She plunges her warm, wet mouth over me, sucking hungrily as her fingers enter her wet pussy again.

My vision goes white, my balls constricting as pleasure snaps down my spine.

"Fuck," I roar, spurts of cum launching from my cock and hitting the door as I start to slow my fist.

"Fuck me." I hiss, slumping over, my body shaking from the force of my orgasm.

I take a few heavy breaths before I stand up, staring at the cum on my door with a grimace.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Wanking all over my fucking front door. Christ.

I take myself to the shower, but I'm hard again before I even get under the spray, and I coat the shower wall in cum thinking about eating Isabella's pussy, hearing her whimpers and cries.

When I wake up in the middle of the night and have to reach for my cock again, I fight the urge to throw my lamp at the wall.

Isabella Swan is going to be the fucking death of me.

Well? Thoughts? ;)

Two left - Tuesday and Saturday next week. See the teaser for the next chapter in the Creaatingmadness group on FB ❤️

Love you all so much - thank you for reading!