愛は川の流れ如き、東へ逝く

The classroom smelled of pine and cinnamon from the holiday decorations strung across the windows. Snow fell softly outside, blanketing the empty school in white.

It was the last day before Christmas break, and most students had bolted early, but Elena lingered. She was eighteen now, a senior with curves that strained her uniform skirt and a crush on Mr. Harlan that burned hotter than the fake fireplace flickering in the corner of the room.

Mr. Harlan, her history teacher, leaned against his desk, loosening his tie. At thirty-five, he had that rugged look, broad shoulders, stubble shadowing his jaw, eyes that lingered too long on her during lectures. The mistletoe hung innocently above the door, a joke from the faculty party earlier.

"Mr. Harlan?" Elena's voice was soft, hesitant, as she stepped closer, her boots clicking on the linoleum. She clutched a wrapped gift in her hands, red paper with a bow. "I... I got you something. For the holidays."

He straightened, his gaze dropping to the package, then up to her face. Her cheeks flushed pink, matching the Santa hat perched on her dark hair. "Elena, you didn't have to do that. It's not appropriate."

But she was already under the mistletoe, holding it out. "Please? It's just a thank you for all the extra help this semester." Her heart pounded, the air thick with unspoken want. She'd fantasized about this…his hands on her, peeling away her clothes like unwrapping a present.

He sighed, taking the gift, his fingers brushing hers. Electricity shot through her. "Fine. But you should head home soon. Roads are getting slick."

She bit her lip, stepping closer. "One kiss? Tradition, right? Under the mistletoe."

His eyes darkened, jaw tightening. "Elena, I'm your teacher. This is—"

"Just a kiss," she whispered, tilting her face up. Her breath came fast, nipples hardening under her thin sweater.

He hesitated, then cupped her chin, his thumb rough against her skin. His mouth crashed down on hers, hungry and demanding. No gentle peck, this was raw need, his tongue pushing past her lips, tasting her like she'd been waiting to be devoured. She moaned into it, dropping the pretense, her hands fisting his shirt.

He pulled back, breathing hard. "Fuck, Elena. We can't."

"Why not?" She pressed against him, feeling the hard ridge of his cock through his pants. "I've wanted this all year. You look at me like you do too."

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her flush. "You're playing with fire, kid."

"Then burn me," she challenged, her voice husky.

That snapped something in him. He spun her, backing her against the desk, papers scattering. His mouth was on her neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, teeth grazing her pulse. She gasped, arching into him, her pussy already wet and aching.

"You have no idea what you're asking," he growled, yanking her sweater up and over her head. Her bra was simple white lace, but it cupped her full tits perfectly. He shoved it down, exposing her, and latched onto a nipple, sucking hard while pinching the other.

Elena cried out, fingers tangling in his hair. "Yes, like that. God, your mouth..."

He bit down lightly, making her squirm. "These tits have been distracting me for months. Bouncing in class, begging to be touched." His free hand slid under her skirt, fingers finding her soaked panties. He rubbed her clit through the fabric, groaning. "So fucking wet already. Dirty girl."

She bucked against his hand. "For you. Always for you."

He tore her panties aside, plunging two fingers into her tight pussy. She was dripping, clenching around him as he pumped roughly. "This cunt is mine tonight. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir," she whimpered, the word slipping out, fueling his hunger.

He finger-fucked her harder, thumb circling her clit, until her legs shook. "Come for me, Elena. Show me how bad you want my cock."

She shattered, pussy spasming, juices coating his hand. He didn't stop, drawing it out until she was limp against the desk.

"Good girl," he murmured, licking his fingers clean, eyes locked on hers. The taste of her—sweet and musky—made his dick throb painfully.

Elena slid off the desk, dropping to her knees. Her hands fumbled with his belt, freeing his thick cock. It sprang out, veined and heavy, pre-cum beading at the tip. She licked her lips, staring up at him. "I want to suck you. Please."

He tangled his fingers in her hair, guiding her mouth to him. "Open wide, baby. Take it all."

She did, lips stretching around his girth, tongue swirling the head. He thrust shallowly, hitting the back of her throat. She gagged but pushed on, hollowing her cheeks, sucking like she was starving. Saliva dripped down her chin as she bobbed, one hand stroking what she couldn't swallow.

"Fuck, your mouth is heaven," he grunted, hips snapping. "Look at you, slobbering on your teacher's dick. Such a little slut under that innocent face."

The words made her pussy clench again. She hummed around him, vibrations pulling a curse from his lips. He fucked her face faster, balls tightening, until he pulled out, stroking himself. "Not yet. I want to fill that pussy first."

He hauled her up, bending her over the desk. Her skirt hiked up, ass exposed, the cool air teasing her wetness. He smacked her cheek, the sting making her yelp, then moan.

"Spread your legs," he ordered. She did, and he lined up, rubbing his cock along her slit. "Beg for it."

"Please, Mr. Harlan. Fuck me. I need your cock inside me. Stretch my pussy."

He slammed in, burying himself to the hilt. She screamed, the fullness overwhelming, his thickness splitting her open. He didn't give her time to adjust, pounding relentlessly, desk creaking under them.

"Tight as a virgin," he rasped, hands gripping her hips hard enough to mark. "This is what you wanted? Teacher's cock ruining you?"

"Yes! Harder!" She pushed back, meeting his thrusts, tits swaying.

The room filled with wet slaps, her moans, his grunts. Holiday lights twinkled mockingly as he railed her, one hand reaching around to rub her clit. She came again, walls milking him, but he kept going, chasing his own release.

"Gonna cum inside you," he warned, voice strained. "Fill this naughty pussy with my load."

"Do it," she begged. "Fuck me, sir."

He roared, hips stuttering as he pumped hot spurts deep into her. She felt every pulse, warmth flooding her, dripping down her thighs when he finally pulled out.

They collapsed together, panting, his arms around her. But the heat wasn't done. He kissed her shoulder, nipping. "Not finished yet. Christmas is for unwrapping everything."

He flipped her onto her back on the desk, spreading her legs wide. Her pussy glistened with their mixed cum, swollen and inviting. He dropped to his knees, burying his face between her thighs. His tongue lapped at her folds, sucking her clit, delving into her to taste their combined essence.

Elena writhed, hands in his hair. "Oh god, your tongue... eat me out. Clean your cum from my pussy."

He did, devouring her like a feast, fingers spreading her ass cheeks to tease her hole. She bucked, another orgasm building fast. "Finger my ass, please. I want it all."

He slicked a finger with her juices, pressing it into her tight rear entrance. She gasped at the intrusion, the double sensation pushing her over. She squirted on his face, body convulsing.

Wiping his mouth, he stood, cock hard again. "On your knees on the floor. I want to fuck that ass now."

Trembling, she obeyed, ass up, face down on the rug by the fake fire. He lubed himself with her pussy's remnants, then pushed into her ass slowly at first, then deeper.

"So tight," he groaned, inching in. "Relax, baby. Take my cock in your virgin ass."

She breathed through it, pain melting to pleasure as he bottomed out. He started thrusting, building speed, one hand fisting her hair, the other spanking her.

"You love it, don't you? Teacher's cock in your ass on Christmas Eve."

"Yes! Fuck my ass harder!" She reached under, rubbing her clit, the fullness making her wild.

He pounded her, the angle hitting new spots, until he came again, flooding her ass. She followed, screaming into the carpet.

They lay there after, tangled and spent, the snow piling higher outside. "This can't happen again," he murmured, but his hand stroked her breast possessively.

Elena smiled, tracing his chest. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Harlan."