Parent-Teacher Conference

Robbie reluctantly led his father down the high school hallway toward his 6

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and final classroom: Miss Ava Valentine's Junior English class. "I just want you to know how embarrassing this has been," said Robbie. "We didn't see a single other junior here at open house. I don't see why you have to meet all my teachers every year."

"Robbie, get over it. Good parent-teacher relationships mean good grades which mean good colleges." Peter had been a single father for several years, but he felt now he was finally getting the hang of it. And Robbie was going to college because Peter never had. Meeting the teachers would be wise. Not only did he want to know which ones were flakes, but he wanted to get a better idea of what Robbie would be studying this year. Peter wanted to be more involved than he had in the past. Before Robbie led his father into his English classroom, he paused.

"Dad, do me a solid. Don't embarrass me in front of Miss Valentine."

"Do I ever embarrass you?"

Robbie rolled his eyes. "Yes. All the time."

Miss Valentine was perched on a wooden stool at the front of the room, her high heels hooked in the rungs of the stool. She slid off the stool and adjusted herself. She wore a trendy grey cardigan open over a black dress that clung to her breasts, and the tan belt around her waist showed off her tiny waist. Her tan ankle-strap heels were more "date night" and less "school room business."

"Glad you made it! I haven't had a visitor all night. I'd almost given up." Her brown eyes sparkled behind her reading glasses. A large curl toppled down from her messy bun when she shook hands with Peter. Peter now understood why Robbie didn't want his father embarrassing him. "I am Robbie's English teacher, Ava Valentine. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Corvus. Have a seat anywhere."

Robbie and Peter sat in the third chair back. She pulled the stool closer toward their desks and sat back with one leg swung over the other. A delicate gold anklet caught Peter's attention, and his eyes moved up her tight calf. Her dress flared several inches above her knee, so sitting in that position gave Peter a good look at her left thigh especially since it was at eye-level. He wished he'd sat in the first chair.

Miss Valentine began, "This course is designed to prepare students for college-level English. Of course, any student who chooses to tackle AP English making a commitment to challenge, time management, and hard work. The students must maintain a work ethic that provides for timeliness and excellence in all assignments . . . " Peter watched her moist red lips continue to form words, but the flat tone of her voice was a snooze. The V-neckline of her dress framed an abstract gold pendant that matched her dangling earrings. " . . . so, do you have any questions for me, Mr. Corvus?"

Peter gave her his best gentleman smile and stood up. "Thank you for your time, Ava—" Peter stuck out his hand to shake hers.

She did not extend her arm. "Miss Valentine," she corrected him. Then she finally offered her hand and they touched. Fiery tingles radiated throughout his body.

Peter asked Robbie about Miss Valentine every chance he could get. Peter wished there were some reason to call her, to ask her out, but would that be ethical? He knew he should at least wait until the next school year when she wasn't his teacher.

Then Peter received a call home from Miss Valentine.

"Robbie's research paper on Walt Whitman is completely plagiarized. Robbie says he plans to go to college, but colleges will terminate him for this behavior. You seem to be an involved parent and want what's best for Robbie."

Peter was glad she called even if he was conflicted. "What would you suggest, Miss Valentine? I don't know much about discipline."

Miss Valentine paused. "Discipline is vital, Mr. Corvus. How else will we respect people and rules? Without discipline how would we ever get to relish in our successes? The hot whips of discipline keep us on the straight and narrow, Mr. Corvus. Don't you agree?"

"Oh, I do agree," said Peter. "I'm just not so good at handing it out. I guess I wasn't disciplined enough in my youth. Imagine where I'd be now if I had been."

"Perhaps it would be in Robbie's best interest if we sat down together and discussed some options."

Peter was more than intrigued and agreed to meet as soon as possible.

Peter arrived at Miss Valentine's house shortly before noon. He did not want to appear unpunctual. He was dressed in khaki pants, a button-down shirt, a belt, and dress casual loafers. It wasn't his cup of tea but he was meeting with his son's teacher.

She answered the door immediately and ushered him in quickly. "I don't have many visitors, so when I do, my neighbors are nosy. I'd prefer to be discrete." Miss Valentine was wearing another dress-cardigan ensemble, but the cardigan was buttoned up. Her hair sat in a tight bun at the top of her head and she was wearing her reading glasses.

"We could have met somewhere else," Peter responded.

"I think this is the appropriate location," she smiled. "We don't want to be seen by anyone who might recognize us. Afterall, your son is in my class, and we don't want gossip." He thought she might be flirting, but by her tone of voice it was hard to tell. He didn't want to assume, so he remained a gentleman.

She led him down a hallway to a doorway that led to the basement. She answered his question before he asked it. "This is my office," she reassured him. "We can discuss things down here." He followed her down the dark steps obediently. When she flicked on the lights at the bottom of the steps, Peter felt transported back to his youth.

It was a relatively plain room except for ten school desks with ten chairs lined up in rows before him. A large black chalkboard on the far wall seemed to beckon for him to come show his work. One solitary wooden teacher desk sat at the front of the room. On a narrow bookshelf to the right of the room sat books on BDSM and Erotica. Peter questioned being there for the first time. He had imagined that at best they'd have sex; at worst, she'd rattle on about behavior correction and the fundamentals of discipline. But now he wasn't sure what he'd signed up for.

He sits down in a desk at the middle of the room thinking they'd sit face to face.

She walks around his desk slowly

"You were never an overachiever, were you? Move to the front of the room, Peter."

He moved hesitantly.

She stood at the front of the room, hands on her hips. Then she unbuttoned her cardigan, slid it off and hung it on the back of her chair. "Peter," she took off her glasses, "I'm going to teach you how to be the teacher's pet."

She pulled Velcro handcuffs and a blindfold out of her drawer. She leaned over his desk, her head close to his. In a whisper she instructed him: "Peter, I'm just going to take control of you for a while. If you're a good boy, I'll let you have your way with me after I'm done. But if you don't obey, well . . . A teacher's pet will do anything for their teacher. Can you follow directions, Peter?" He nodded. She fastened his hands behind him and slipped the blindfold over his head and let it hang around his neck. "You may say 'Yes, ma'am' or 'No, ma'am,' but you may not say anything else. Understand?" He nodded his head. "Do you have any questions for me before we get started?"

"No, ma'am," he replied.

She went back to the front of the classroom and unzipped her dress from the back, letting it slide off her body dutifully. He was now staring at Miss Valentine's underclothes: a black leather corset that pressed her breasts up into perfect white orbs. He moved his eyes down her body: black stockings, garter belt, and lacy black underwear. She pulled her wooden chair out from behind the desk along with a pair of thigh high leather boots with three-inch heels. She placed the chair directly in front of Peter. She kicked off her tan heels and, placing one leg onto her chair, she slowly slipped a boot on, running her hands multiple times softly over the leather, then slowly and erotically zipping the boot up her leg. Then she did the same thing with the other boot, this time looking at Peter while she ran her hands up and down her leg, then further still running her hands over her panties, the lower corset, and finally her exposed breasts. Finally, she released her long brown hair from its bun, and mounds of waves fell around her face. She slid his blindfold over his eyes.

"Starting today, I own your cock. It's no longer even yours. You are never to self-pleasure without my permission. I determine when and if you orgasm. You will save all your semen for me. I will tell you exactly where I want it." He felt her soft hand on his face. "And one more thing. You don't cum until you make me cum three times."

"Yes, ma'am," he obediently responded.

She shifted the student table away from him. He felt her fingers unbuttoning his shirt, rubbing his chest as she moved down toward his belt. As she pulled his belt out of the loops, she said, "I can use this later." He could feel her presence and wanted so badly to reach out and touch her. He felt her breath on his neck as she rubbed his chest and playfully teased his nipples. He leaned forward, hoping their lips would meet, and they did briefly. She pulled away, the sound of her heels seeming to move toward her desk. He heard the desk drawer open. "The teacher's pet always follows directions," she said brusquely. More heel clicks. He felt something wooden slide over his shoulder, across his back, around to his chest. "You need some discipline. Some self-control."

"Yes, ma'am."

She tugged his blindfold off. She was standing over him, straddling his legs, a wooden ruler in her hand. She pulled at the lacing of the corset and pulled it off. Her breasts were average size but perky as hell. "Pet," she called him and lowered herself down on his lap, "kiss them until I tell you to stop." He leaned forward submissively and took one breast to his lips, kissing, tonguing, and sucking at nipple. Her legs tightened against his, and her hips moved against him. He took the other breast, teasing the nipple until it was hard, tightening his lips onto it for pressure. He wished he could use his hands. He'd be able to do a better job. Then he sucked one nipple, then the other, alternating back and forth between the two. Her breathing increased and she let out a few tender moans.

She pulled away, standing up above him again. "Stand up."

"Yes, ma'am."

She unbuttoned his pants and pushed them and his underwear down to his ankles, following them to the ground as she got on her knees. His cock was fully erect, and he wanted her mouth on it. Was she going to? "My pet, you have a gorgeous cock." His heart raced. She was going to. "Would you like me to suck your cock?"

"Yes, ma'am," his voice quivered.

She leaned in and kissed the skin just inches away from his shaft. Then she kissed the opposite side. She kissed just above his shaft, not touching his cock. He was throbbing, growing impatient. She kissed his upper thigh. Then her lips came within an inch of the head of his cock. "You want your cock sucked, pet?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said breathlessly.

She pulled away. "Self-control, Peter. You have to learn self-control." It was both a pain and a pleasure—wanting to feel her warm mouth on his cock yet knowing this was going to last awhile and end explosively. She undressed him completely and pulled him toward her wooden desk.

"This is what you are going to do for me. You are going to eat my pussy like a good pet, and I'm going to show you how I like it." She released him from his hand restraints, then she took off her boots. "Take my panties off with your teeth," she instructed him. He bit the area just below her belly button and tugged as far as he could, then took the right side down with his teeth, and then the left, continuing until he'd pulled them down to her ankles. Then she laid back onto the desk. He took her panties from her ankles and spread her legs a bit, setting her feet on the desk. "Kiss my tits first." He started kissing her breasts, this time he fondled them with his hands, moving his tongue slowly in circles around her nipple, teasing. Then he kissed her chest, continuing to kiss her skin as he moved down to her hips. He kissed the inside of her upper thigh, then, as she had done to him, he kissed the entire area around her vagina and clit. Her moans grew louder and her hips moved to meet his mouth. Finally he licked her up and down, his tongue immersed with her juices. He sucked her clit into his mouth delicately and began stroking it with his tongue until he found a rhythm. Her hips convulsed and she grabbed him by his hair, forcing herself against his face as she came. He slowed his sucking and began stroking the skin around her vagina with his tongue. Panting, she praised him. "Peter, you're doing a great job. Just make me cum two more times and you can have your way with me."

He kissed her slowly up to her breasts, lightly kissing her face and neck. In this position he could have easily slipped his cock inside her, but he wanted to see where this was going to go. To play, he placed his cock against the inside of her thigh and ran it up and down her skin, each time getting closer to her pussy. Her hips moved to align herself with the head of his cock. "Self control, Miss Valentine." He kissed back down to her pussy, taking her clit back into his mouth again. He sucked it, rolling it around with his tongue like a jellybean. He sucked it and released it over and over again rhythmically, then he pulled her clit in and out of his mouth, releasing it then taking it again. Her body shuddered when he slid one finger inside her, then two fingers, gently pushing them in and out. She moaned and pulled his head against her clit. She grinded his face into her, then his fingers felt her vaginal muscles contracting against them. Her whole body trembled but she kept his face against her until she became sensitive.

He helped her off the desk and turned her around, her back to him. He put his arms around her, running his hands over her stomach and her breasts. She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and his kissed her neck. He took her wrists and led them to the desktop, then he pushed lightly on her back so she was bent over face down on the desk. He squatted and went for her pussy from this direction, using his fingers to stimulate her clit while he licked around and in the opening of her pussy. Her juices dripped down his fingers. He couldn't take it anymore. He stood up behind her, took his cock in his hand, and he pressed it against her opening. "Yes, ma'am?" he asked. She forced her pussy back against his cock and took him completely, moaning loudly and half-whimpering. "Oh, god, fuck me!" she demanded, and he complied by pulling her hips toward him more vigorously. "Harder!" she growled. He fucked the shit out of her as long as he could, really trying to wait for her to have her third, but he felt light-headed and couldn't wait. "Cum inside me," she instructed. He burst inside her, feeling his hot cum fill her up entirely. Her pussy was tightening around his cock, and she came even harder than the two times before, crying for him not to stop, to keep fucking her.

After he finally pulled out of her, he turned her around and sat her on the desk, holding her in his arms. He was still unsure if he could speak, so he simply asked, "Yes? Ma'am." Had he been a good student? Was he the teacher's pet?

"Self-control, Peter. You showed an enormous amount of self-control. But you need some discipline. You didn't wait for me to say you could cum. You'll have to be disciplined, Peter."

"Miss Valentine? I'm going to need a lot of discipline."