“Well, that was fun,” I exclaim to the empty room as I flop down onto the sofa. I check the clock: quarter past three. I'm a lightweight these days, not like Quatre and Trowa – I last saw them looking suspiciously like they were going to adopt a podium for themselves and start doing lewd things together on it. Which would have been fun to watch, but by that time I was feeling a bit tired, like the old fogey I am, and decided to come home to Heero.
A look down at myself makes me think that maybe I'm not as tired as all that, though. It was half-price entry in school uniform; the details are fuzzy as to how I got persuaded that, in my case, it should be a girl's school uniform, but it paid off – they let me in for quarter-price instead. So I stopped cursing Quatre for taking advantage of my recent tipsiness in order to get a cheap laugh, and instead thanked him – by giving him a wet, lipsticky kiss. I apologised to Trowa afterwards, of course, but he said he didn't mind, as long as he could have one as well, so I naturally obliged, and that kind of set the tone for the night, as we each set out to flirt with as many people as possible. I think Quatre won that little contest, he's just so good at being nice and generous and making flattering comments, but he also made it quite clear he wasn't available by attacking Trowa mouth-first at every opportunity. So, with those two occupied, it was left to me to deflect all the idiots, creeps and assorted unsavoury types. Me, by myself, and of course none of them believed I wasn't single. I managed to acquit myself quite well, I thought, only having to get nasty on one occasion: I didn't mind the double entendres; I could deal with the verbal aspersions cast about my gender; I could cope with various people pulling the pig-tails I'd put in; but no-one – absolutely no-one – gets away with groping me! It'll be a long time before that guy tries to determine anyone's sex in such a hands-on manner. The lower regions of this body are off-limits to everyone except Heero. I may have flirted like crazy, but that doesn't mean I'm easy, as that guy with the busy hands found out. Painfully.
Speaking of Heero – I wonder if he's calmed down. He was pretty mad about me going out without him – he knows how much I tease other men – but it's not really his sort of thing. I think the poor doll still sometimes thinks I'm going to up and leave him for someone else, even though it's obvious to all our friends how head-over-heels I am for him. I love him idiotically, it's true, but I wasn't about to give up a silly thing like a night out just because he wanted me to, no matter how much he tried to entice me. And he was pretty damn enticing too… Mmm…
I can feel myself getting hard just remembering all the sexy things he promised – I know he meant them, even though he did have the ulterior motive of trying to get me to stay at home. Maybe I'll go surprise him, make up for leaving him by himself. I know he won't be asleep, he always stays awake to make sure I get back okay, even if he pretends he doesn't. Adjusting myself in these rather restrictive, but strangely enjoyable, simple, white, innocent-schoolgirly undergarments, I go upstairs to find him. There's light under the door of the computer room, which means he's not gone to bed; a smile creeps over my face as I have a very good idea. Making sure my smile doesn't show – I don't care if he notices anything else – I quietly knock on the door. After a few seconds he opens it, clearly puzzled, but I speak immediately, before he has a chance to ask me what the hell I'm doing.
“You wanted to see me, sir.”
There's a look of confusion on his face for a moment, but then he catches on. Clever boy.
“Yes. Come in.” He opens the door and I step in coquettishly; out of the corner of my eye I notice he seems to be as aroused as I am – well, that's what lightning-quick reaction times do for you – and I can't help but hope he's waited for me to get home before, uh, seeking any relief: I seem to recall he was in a similar state before I left.
I stand demurely inside the doorway as he leans back against the desk.
“Now, Miss Maxwell,” he begins in a way that I find disproportionately arousing, “I'm sure you know it's against the rules to be out at this time.”
I nod meekly.
“Where have you been?”
“…Out with my friends.”
He considers for a moment, and smiles a little. “Did you have a good time?”
I nod again.
“Well, seeing as you're good the rest of the time, I think I could let you off.”
I stare for a minute, wondering what just happened, until I hear his voice again:
“BUT – ” he's wearing a very small smile “ – there are a few other issues I've been meaning to speak to you about.” He leaves his reclining position and stalks towards me. I'd be puzzled if I wasn't so busy being knee-tremblingly turned on by his easy assumption of a role of authority over me. He's just so good at everything it's impossible not to give in – so from it being my idea of a way to excite him, he's managed to take it over. Not that I'm complaining, though, as he walks around me slowly, until we're face to face. Being the object of his distinctly lustful scrutiny is also contributing much to my state of arousal. I can barely stand still.
I manage to stutter, “Yes, sir?” to get him to continue, and he does.
“Well, these clothes you're wearing. Hardly appropriate for school, are they?” He gestures at my half-open short-sleeved blouse, obscenely short, pleated, green-checked skirt, and those strange white socks that only high school girls wear. I have to admit, my outfit definitely gives a certain impression; I mentally smirk, but only briefly, before the physical sensation of Heero's proximity takes full effect on my sex-drugged brain.
He goes on, taking advantage of my obvious struggle to remain in control of my body. “I've noticed this a lot recently. And your behaviour round me, too – I think you've been wearing these sort of clothes to… attract my attention. You seem to have been, how shall I put it? Flirting with me. Might I be so bold as to suggest you have a crush on me, Miss Maxwell?”
I keep quiet, trying my best to blush. It's surprisingly easy.
He goes on after a few moments. “That's what confused me, you see. You're a remarkably attractive young woman – ” coming nearer to me “ – and you certainly got my attention – ” getting even closer “ – but I was confused, because I don't usually like girls.” Almost brushing his lips against mine. I almost faint from excitement – all the blood's rushed away from my brain.
“But then, I began to notice a couple of other things.” He continues without blinking, having moved behind me again, leaving me gasping. But he's not too far away, and as he speaks, I feel his hand begin to very gently stroke the back of my thigh: I close my eyes and try my best to keep quiet as I listen to his words.
“Firstly – ” and here his other hand comes round to rest on my chest, brushing his fingers lightly over my nipple, “ – this speaks for itself. And secondly – ” here I nearly do go out of my mind as the hand on my thigh moves between my legs and caresses, very gently, the skin through that tantalisingly faux-innocent lingerie “ – I don't think there are many girls built quite like you.” The last words are a whisper, as his lips brush against the back of my neck; I can't stay totally quiet any longer, and I sort of squeak out some incoherent sound of high sexual tension.
My eyes are still squeezed shut, so I don't see, only feel, him move back in front of me. I open my eyes to see his face so close to mine that I can almost taste his masculinity, the pheromones… I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so tense and so hard and so dizzy… and the feelings only intensify as he slowly gets to his knees in front of me, lifting the tiny skirt and disappearing beneath it, leaving me gasping and brain-frozen with desire.
But what I'm expecting never materialises, leaving me teetering on the brink and tense like a coiled spring; instead, I hear the sound of fabric tearing, then feel a nakedness that weakens my already impossibly excited body even further; then I see a small white scrap fly across the room… But Heero's hands are still both holding the hem of my skirt, and as my fogged brain registers what he's actually done I really do go very wobbly indeed.
He steadies me, a hand on each arm, as he looks up at me, smirking, a shred of white cloth between his lips. I moan; I didn't realise people really could rip off underwear with their teeth, but I'm not surprised that Heero can. The combination of the inexplicably exciting feeling of being exposed under my skirt and the knowledge that he's so close to the centre of my aching need almost makes me scream. Typical Heero – he's hardly touched me and I'm ready to come right now.
But he wouldn't allow that – he's nowhere near done teasing me yet. He's back under my skirt, one hand still on my arm. I can feel how close his lips are to me… if he would just… but no. Instead, I just tremble and moan quietly as I feel him whisper; so close…!
“Yes; I don't think there'll be many girls with the same assets as you.”
As he finishes the sentence he just touches the tip of his tongue to the very tip of my erection, as lightly as he can, and I sob out some strangled sound – I'm now as close to orgasm as I've ever been without actually reaching it, I think. If it weren't so goddamn tense in here I'd have fallen over with shaking. I resign myself to my fate as he gets up from the floor. He always manages to do this to me when he wants to. Not that it's a chore for me or anything – quite the opposite… But I can't help having a sky-high libido, just like I can't help finding him so sexually-charged I always end up… like this!
He's asking me something now – I manage to pull myself out of my haze of Heero-induced sexual torture enough to hear him say “So, you've broken lots of rules.” He's pacing, walking round me again; he makes looking so sexy seem so easy! “First, staying out late. Secondly, making romantic overtures to a teacher. And thirdly – ” he stops and runs a hand up the inside of my thigh, stroking me very gently, “ – lying… about your gender. So – ” very softly kissing the side of my neck “ – what would you suggest as a punishment?”
This is just too much! He's still stroking, very lightly, a ghost of a touch; ditto his lips on my neck, not kissing now, just resting there. I can't take this anymore!
“Just – just bend me over the desk and fuck my brains out!” I reach for his hand and pull him towards said desk, even though walking is posing quite a challenge for me at the moment. I hear him laugh softly behind me and respond.
“I'm glad you agree with me that that would be a very fitting punishment.”
When I reach the desk I rest my hands on it and lean forward slightly, straight-armed, waiting for Heero to tell me what to do. He follows me and presses his body to mine, leaning in and nipping at my earlobe with his teeth; I whimper at the erotic touch, then the whimper becomes a gasp as I feel him rub his hardness against my hip. I automatically rub back, starved of any kind of stimulation, but he puts a hand on my back and pushes me down so my chest is touching the desk. This new position is one of vulnerability and naïveté – I'm still the frail little 'girl' and I, rather guiltily, love it. The guilty feeling I get at enjoying being at his mercy, as it were, is just more of a turn-on. Everything this man does to me makes me so hot!
I feel his hand between my thighs and obediently spread my legs: this move results in my lower body now also touching the desk, creating a wonderful friction, which I take advantage of as much as possible, given that Heero has lavished negligible attention on this area of me. He lets me press myself into the desk for a short while, before his hand on the small of my back makes me stop. I make a choked noise of frustration, but then whimper with pleasure again as I feel gentle fingers move again between my thighs. I try to lift my lower portion off the desk a little more for him, but he obviously has other plans: he still holds me by a hand on my back, but then it slides softly onto my rear, and pushes my skirt up to my hips so I'm still steadily held against the desk.
I scream as I feel his tongue enter me: I wasn't expecting it, and if I wasn't frozen by Heero's warning hand on me I'd probably have come right then. I love it when he does this; I love the sensation, and I love the feeling of supreme intimacy it gives: the man I love wanting to do something so special for me. His tongue flicks over sensitive spots on the outside of y body, then back in again, making me shudder in ecstasy. He explores me tenderly, sensuously - now I can only make incoherent sounds that beg him not to stop…
But he does. I groan and collapse limply on the desk; when he said this was my punishment, I thought he was using the term figuratively! Now I'm practically crying with pent-up desire. But as I lie prone on the desk, gasping for breath, he leans over me again, reaching for something just out of my field of vision and simultaneously licking the back of my neck. I mewl helplessly; I am ridiculously vocal during sex, it has to be said – if someone set up a recording device and played the results back to me afterwards, I'd probably turn celibate.
But then again, I doubt it; how could I live with Heero and resist? Especially knowing what he's capable of; like the way he's keeping me hanging right now, tracing a slick finger over all the sensitive places his tongue has just touched before working it inside me. I nearly scream again, but bite my lip and settle for whining in the back of my throat instead. As Heero slips another finger inside me and I bite down harder on my lip, I hear him speak in a loud whisper: “You're not a virgin, are you, Miss Maxwell?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head briefly, power of speech temporarily lost.
“Thought you don't feel tight enough to be. Not surprising, considering your beauty…” His free hand turns my face towards him and strokes my cheek lightly for emphasis, and he continues. “So tell me – who was it took your virginity?”
I'm half-surprised I can even think of a suitable response: “My lover,” I manage to gasp out.
“Your lover?” I can practically hear his eyebrows raise, his laconic tone mocking my hyper-excitement. “Another rule broken. I don't think sexual relationships are allowed in school.” He pauses for a moment before going on, sliding a third finger inside me as he does so. “Except this particular sexual relationship, of course. Although, really, this one is the least allowed of all.” His fingers stroke inside me delicately, echoing the teasing of his words. “This will just be our secret, mm?”
Even though I'm so delirious I'm hardly paying attention to my role, or anything else except Heero's touch right now, the secrecy element strikes a hidden sexual nerve in me and I shiver and shift, trying to achieve more contact in more of the right places. Heero co-operates, and another hidden nerve is struck, but this one is rather more physical. I scream again, in a fittingly girly way, and struggle to breathe properly as he whispers to me again, his breath in my ear just as exciting to my brain.
“So, this lover of yours… is he as good as me?”
I shake my head, unable to find my voice and apply it to recognisable language. No, nothing could be as good as this, even though my lover is Heero and this is Heero and every time we make love it gets better… And he touches that place inside me again and I sob out some pleading moans; I just want him in me, I'm desperate now…
He has mercy on me, soothingly kissing the back of my neck as he removes his fingers, stroking my hip with his free hand, murmuring reassurances against my hot skin.
In a moment he's entering me, sending heat gradually through me… His slow movement elicits more screams and gasps from me, the familiar slight-pain countered completely by the amazing sensuality he radiates.
He pauses, fully inside me: I thought he'd relented after all the teasing, but no – he knows how much words can affect me and uses them to reduce me still further towards being a panting, incoherent puddle spilled over a piece of office furniture.
“I hope you're not expecting this to last long: I've wanted you for far too long for that. And tonight, when I saw you wearing these clothes… I hope you realise I've been hard since before you went out.” I know he's telling the truth as well as playing the role I've given him and I clutch at the desk helplessly, whimpering as he continues. “You always looked like something out of my wettest fantasy; then when you splayed yourself over my desk lie that, like a wanton… even better.” His hand massages my thigh, I beg without words, and he starts to move.
I scream again; I can't help myself. I want this so much now, and he's rubbing over that electric place in me, and this position is so immensely erotic, and his movement is causing magical friction between me and the desk, and his lips and tongue are caressing my neck at intervals and his hands are all over me and I scream and whimper and moan and gasp and plead and yell his name…
Until I feel his hand over my mouth! He doesn't stop moving this time, I don't think he can, but he whispers fiercely to me “And I'm not going to last more than a few seconds if you keep making those too-sexy noises… Won't you be a bit quieter?”
For some reason the restriction of his hand effectively gagging me pushes me once more to within touching distance of orgasm – again, the guilty feeling of enjoying it is as exciting as the total submission I'm willingly displaying. Does he mean what he says? Or is he just trying to make this even more intense? It's certainly having that effect; I instinctively react by pulling his hand away from my mouth and somehow managing to sob out a sentence.
“I don't care Heero! I'm so close…” I emphasise my point by rubbing harder against the desk; my vision goes funny, my body feels light and airy… “Oh god Heero… I'm…”
His voice is as hoarse as mine: “Come on then Duo…”
And I do. Hard. All over the desk. And screaming Heero's name – until the point where I lose even that vocal capacity and am reduced to unintelligible syllables that I'm not sure have a word to describe them.
Whatever they are, they prove Heero wasn't lying when he said I should be quiet if I wanted it to last; I feel him clutch at me, shuddering and making the same sorts of sounds as me in a way that intensifies my own climax even further.
After a fantastically, gloriously, brain-sparkingly long time, I feel him slip out of me, and then he pulls me into his arms as we slide shakily to the floor together, leaning against the desk. Both of us are trembling, soaking wet with one bodily fluid or another, and grinning like idiots.
He kisses at me limply, muscle co-ordination off a bit. “Did you find that as…”
“Breathtaking? Fantasy-like? Indescribable? All of the above?”
He smirks at me, clearly pleased with himself, as am I for having the idea in the first place. Must go out more often, if this is what happens when I get back… Then I remember something, what started all this!
“So I'm forgiven then?”
“For going out!”
He smirks, and even darker smirk than before. I shiver with secret delight.
“Oh no. But maybe, after a few more sessions of … detention like this, I might be persuaded.”
“Oh good… sir.”