English Class
Chapter One: English Class
It was 4th period english class, and Evan Fawks stood at the front of the class, writing page numbers up on the blackboard as the students filed in and took their seats. Most teacher's preferred the ease of dry erase and white boards, but the bobcat always loved the feel and sound of plain chalk on a blackboard.
As the bell rang and the remainder of the 11th grade class took their seats, Mr. Fawks brushed the chalk dust from his hands and turned to face the assembled students. The chit chat gradually died out and the teacher smiled warmly.
"Good morning class. I trust that you all had the opportunity to do the reading I had assigned for last night, and answer the critical thinking questions I included. Make sure your name is on your paper and pass them forward to the front please." The class grumbled a bit at Mr. Fawks' instruction, and the room was filled with the sounds of shuffling papers as students began fishing their assignments out of their bags and binders. Mr. Fawks shifted patiently from foot to foot as he awaited the pile of papers to gradually make their way to the front of the class, taking mental attendance in his head as he did so.
Of the class of seventeen, three students were absent that day. Mr. Fawks hadn't gotten notice from the front office of any absences that day, but that didn't mean that some of the students weren't late with passes. Rachel, a mink and head cheerleader wasn't there, and her seat in the third row was empty, as was the seat that was normally occupied by Kal in the front row, and a seat in the back end of the classroom that Matt favored.
"Here you go Mr. Fawks," Riley said, handing her teacher the pile of homework papers with a bright smile. Mr. Fawks smiled warmly back as he accepted the assignments from the pretty raccoon girl. Riley was a very popular student, and it was easy to see why. She was thin, pretty, and athletic; A member of the lacrosse team here at Northridge, Riley walked the perfect line between curvy and fit, and while on the field cut the perfect figure in her tight short-shorts that perfectly showed off her round, toned ass and trim physique, with her sports bra barely concealing her blossoming, ample bust. It also didn't hurt that she was the daughter of the assistant superintendent, Mrs. Reed.
"Thank you Riley," Mr. Fawks said, feeling a slight tingle of excitement as the sixteen year old flashed him a smile. "You can take your seat now." Turning his attention back to the gathered homework assignments as Riley sat back down, Mr. Fawks thumbed through them briefly to get an idea of who actually completed the assignment. One name stood out to him as missing, and not one of those students whom he had already noted as absent.
"Samantha?" Mr. Fawks said, glancing up and looking around the room. The lilth young cat glanced up from her seat near the center of the room and brushed her long hair back from her face as he called her name.
"Yes Mr. Fawks?"
"You didn't pass in your critical thinking questions. Did you do the reading last night?"
"Yeah, I did Mr. Fawks. I just forgot to do the questions is all." Mr. Fawks frowned.
"I appreciate that you did the reading, but the point of the questions is so I have an idea of how well you actually are comprehending the reading. This is not the first assignment you've missed this week either." Sam rolled her eyes, almost imperceptible, but smiled softly back at her teacher.
"I know, I'm sorry Mr. Fawks." Mr. Fawks sighed and set the papers down on his desk.
"Thats alright. Um, just see me after class again today like last week? We can discuss what we can do about your grade." A snicker ran through the class room, and for most students, this would have caused them to redden in embarrassment. Not Sam though. She simply smiled, her cheeks dimpling cutely as she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her ample breasts, straining her low cut t-shirt. Riley glanced back over her shoulder at Sam, another member of the lacrosse team, and winked stealthily at her, before turning back to face the front of the class.
"Of course Mr. Fawks. It won't take too long though will it? I have to get to Spanish after this."
"I'll give you a pass for Senora Alvarez," Mr. Fawks said, clearing his throat and breaking eye contact with the flirtatious teenager. "I'm sure she will understand. Now, class, please take out your books and turn to chapter seven. Hank, can you start reading at the top of the page?"
Class proceeded much as normal after that point. Over the next forty minutes or so, the class made their way through chapter seven of the current school reading book they were covering and began discussions on their next writing assignment. By the time the bell rang to signal the end of class, Mr. Fawks could tell that the attention of his class was waining.
"Alright class! For tomorrow I want a web-plot for your essays and a working thesis!" Mr. Fawks shouted over the growing din of his students leaving and the sounds of other teenagers filtering out into the hall. He was met with a collection of grumbles and groans in response and Mr. Fawks couldn't help but smile slightly.
"See you tomorrow Mr. Fawks," Riley said with a smirk and a wink that caused the 32 year old to blush under his fur like a smitten teenager.
"Yes, see you tomorrow Riley," Mr. Fawks did all he could not to stumble over his words as the raccoon brushed her tail up against his leg as she made her way past him and into the hall. Soon the only student remaining in the classroom was Sam. She brushed her long hair back from her face and grinned at her teacher.
"Now, miss Pickering," Mr. Fawks said, shutting the door to the hallway and turning to face his student with an affected frown. "What are we going to do about your little homework problem?"
"Well you could always stop assigning it," Sam responded with a smirk. Mr. Fawks couldn't help but smile back at the sassiness of her retort. Mr. Fawks took a long look at the sixteen year old. She was lithe and athletic, as all of the members of the girls Lacrosse team were, with long dark hair and pale, cream colored fur. Her large almond eyes narrowed flirtatiously at him as his gaze drifted down her body, over her large, ample breasts, so recently developed, and her full, curved thighs and hips, snuggly held in her tight, dark jeans.
"Yes, well, we both know that I can't do that," Mr. Fawks said slowly, eyes focusing on the young teen's cleavage, visible through her low cut shirt.
"Yeah, I suppose," Sam said, pushing her chair out from her desk and rising to her feet. "So, Mr. Fawks... I know I haven't passed in a lot of homework recently, but I told you that practices were taking up a lot of time, plus there's my job. I just don't have TIME for all of these silly reading questions!"
"Well, Sam, you do know that each assignment you don't pass in is a hit to your grade."
"I know I know. Isn't there some way that you can do something about that though? A little... bump...?" Sam pressed herself close to Mr. Fawks' body, her hand slipping down the waistband of his pants and grabbing a tight hold of his swelling erection, her long, thin fingers wrapping around his warm, hard cock. Mr. Fawks let out a soft, content moan and grinned down at his young student.
"I suppose we could work something out, yes. Some extra credit perhaps?" Slowly Sam sank down to her knees, her hand slipping out of Mr. Fawks' pants and began to deftly undo his belt. The english teacher glanced once at the classroom door, to make sure it was tightly closed before things got too much farther. It was one of the worst kept secrets at Northridge that he was banging the students after class, and wasn't at all uncommon given the circumstances, but it was always best to make sure it happened behind closed doors, so to speak. Once or twice a student glanced in through the narrow window on the door, catching a glimpse of the action inside, but they just smiled, or giggled knowingly and went on about their day.
Confident that they wouldn't be disturbed, Mr. Fawks allowed himself to relax. Putting one hand in the pocket of his pants and the other on the back of Samantha's head to pull her in close, pressing her face into the bulge in his groin, the teacher sighed contentedly.
"Very well Sam. But this is the last time I can give you credit for this. Blowjobs only go so far, and it's not fair to your classmates that you keep getting a passing grade based on your cock sucking skills alone." Sam giggled, rubbing her face into her teachers bulge and inhaling deeply.
"Thats ok," she said "Maybe I can find some other way to earn... extra credit." It was an awkward position, but finally Sam managed to undue Mr. Fawks belt and unbutton his pants. Pulling them open, she reached in again, fishing around for her prize. It didn't take long to find it, Mr. Fawks was practically bursting free almost as soon as his pants loosened, and soon the hungry teen was pulling his thick, hot cock free. She eyed it greedily, all focus on the tasty, throbbing meat now. A glistening bead of pre-cum oozed from the flared tip, and Sam leaned in delicately to kiss it, gently and slowly, like she might make out with her boyfriend. Her tongue slipped past her lips and brushed across the tip of Mr. Fawks' cock, eliciting a pleased gasp from her english teacher.
Sam pulled back and glanced upwards, the pre-cum leaving a thin string connecting her lips to the tip of Mr. Fawks' cock. Her teacher's eyes were closed, a slight smile on his lips, and his head tilted back ever so slightly. Sam giggled and got to work.
Mr. Fawks' groaned as the warm, wet mouth of the 16 year old enveloped his cock. Sam had one of the best blowjobs in all of Northridge High, and she knew it. She sucked hard, and firm on the salty flesh of Mr. Fawks' cock, bobbing up and down in short, slow strokes. Each time she pulled back to the tip of his cock, her cheeks caving in with the suction, she ran her tongue over the head. Loud, wet slurping noises filled the empty classroom, but neither cared. Students had emptied out from the hallways and returned to their classes, and there would be no one to hear them, even if someone did care to come looking for them, which they wouldn't.
"Mmmm... Thats a good girl..." Mr. Fawks moaned, his voice a husky whisper. The hand on the back of Sam's head wound its fingers into her hair, getting a firm grip as he pushed her deeper down onto his hard cock. Sam didn't object. Putting her hands on Mr. Fawks' thighs to brace herself, she closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath as she prepared for her english teacher to face fuck her like he always did. Sam didn't have much of a gag reflex, she was used to rough treatment. As Mr. Fawks bucked roughly into her open mouth, the 16 year old dug her fingers into his thighs and pant legs to hold her self steady. Her teacher held her head firm and in place, both hands now gripping the back of her head tightly, almost painfully, as he humped her mouth like it was a pussy. Sam stuck her tongue out as far as she could, feeling Mr. Fawks' balls brush against the tip and slap into her chin. Drool spilled from her mouth, into her cleavage, matting down her fur and soaking through her shirt.
Sam opened her eyes, tears welling in the corners and spilling down her cheeks as she fought off the urge to gag. She rolled her eyes up to look at her teacher as he mated with her willing face. A slight smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she watched his expression, lost in pleasure. Sam loved it.
"Fuck thats good... fuck..." Mr. Fawks snarled under his breath, bucking his hips roughly into the 11th grader's face. His cock was all the way down her throat now, and his groin was mashing painfully into her snout. She could barely breath, and the few chances she got to steal a breath, all she inhaled was the musky scent of her english teacher's balls and cock. Sam felt her loins tingling, her pussy dripping wet and soaking through her panties and jeans. she let go of Mr. Fawks' leg with one hand, and smearing her fingers into the thick, slippery pools of drool that had gathered in her now ruined chest fur and soaked through her shirt, she shoved her hand down into her pants and began furiously rubbing at her clit.
"Thats right you little slut," Mr. Fawks snarled, grinning at his student as she pawed at herself. "You fucking love when I fuck you. Thats right, play with yourself. Maybe if you're lucky you'll get to finish before I blow my load." Sam moaned lustily around Mr. Fawks' cock, and rubbed at herself faster and harder, feeling the pleasure build between her legs. Her thighs began to shake, her legs not quite able to support herself through the rough face fucking and finger banging she was giver herself.
Suddenly, she just couldn't hold herself up any more. Her legs gave out from under her and her hand lost its grip on Mr. Fawks' pant leg, dropping to the floor as she collapsed in a violent, shaking orgasm, cumming into her own hand and ruining her panties. Mr. Fawks grunted in surprise as her weight gave out, and suddenly he was holding Sam upright just by her head. He didn't stop through, and with a snarl, hilted his cock as far down the teenager's throat as he could and blew his load.
Sam felt her eyes cross and her throat and mouth filled with thick, salty seed. Mr. Fawks released his grip on her hair, letting her collapse on the floor at his feet. Cum surged into Sam's mouth, and squirted all over her face and heaving, sopping wet tits as her teacher continued to shoot his load down on the prone girl at his feet.
"Alright Samantha," Mr. Fawks panted, trying to regain his composure. "A deal is a deal. You get a pass on last night's homework. But thats the last time. Next time you don't do an assignment, I'm using more than your throat." Sam could hardly protest. she lay on the floor, gasping for breath and grinning in ecstasy. Her panties were ruined, as was her shirt, both soaked through with spit and cum, and her jeans so wet between her legs and down her thighs it looked like she had pissed herself. All she had for a change of clothes were her gym clothes, but she didn't care. It's not like no one knew what she and Mr. Fawks had been doing in his room after class.
Mr. Fawks fixed his pants, and tucked in his shirt, looking presentable once more as he crossed to his desk and took out a yellow post-it note. Scribbling a few things on it, he tossed it casually to the floor at Sam's feet.
"There is your pass for Senora Alvarez." He said as he sat back down at his desk to grade papers. "Though I would suggest you clean yourself up a bit first."