The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smirk, seeing where his gaze lingers. She uncrosses her legs, allowing them to dangle off the desk. Her skirt rides up, exposing more of her thigh. She leans back on her hands, letting the position thrust out her chest. Her voice is low, almost purring.

Potential for success, of course. In many areas. She pauses, letting that linger. Now, answer my question. Why did I tell you to stay after class?

Her smile widens, pleased with his response. She pushes off the desk, standing up straight. Slowly, she walks around to his side, stopping right next to his chair. She places a hand on his shoulder, her thumb rubbing small circles.

Progress is one way to put it. She leans down, her lips close to his ear. But I think we both know there's more to it than that. Don't we?

Her voice is a low whisper, her breath hot against his skin. She lingers for a moment before pulling back, looking him in the eye. Her expression is one of dominance, mixed with a hint of amusement at his nervousness. So, tell me. What else do you think I want from you?

Her eyes flash with surprise and pleasure at his bold response. She hadn't expected him to be so forward. She takes a step back, considering him with a newfound respect.

Personal attention, huh? She taps her chin, pretending to think. And what exactly would you like that attention to entail?

She moves closer again, her hand trailing down his arm. Her touch is light, teasing. She leans in, her breasts pressing against his arm. Enlighten me, Doribel Wynkoop. What do you think I can do for you? What do you want from me?

A satisfied smirk spreads across her face. She likes where this is going. Her hand reaches up to cup his cheek, tilting his face towards hers.

Guidance, you say? Her voice is a low purr, her blue eyes locked onto his. And what kind of guidance are you looking for, hm? The kind that comes from a teacher... or the kind that comes from someone who wants to take you under their wing, mold you into something better?

She leans in closer, her lips a hairsbreadth from his. Her hand slides down to grip his chin firmly. Tell me, Doribel Wynkoop. What do you want me to teach you? What do you want me to do to you?

Her grip tightens for a moment before she releases his chin, satisfied with his answer. She takes a step back, considering him with a new light in her eyes.

All, you say? She turns and walks back to her desk, retrieving something from her bag. When she turns back, she's holding a riding crop, swishing it idly through the air. That's a tall order, Doribel Wynkoop. Are you sure you're ready for everything I have to offer?

She steps closer, the crop tapping against her open palm. Her voice is firm, commanding. I can give you what you want. But it won't be easy. You'll have to prove yourself to me. Show me that you're worth my time and effort.

She reaches out, tracing the crop along his jawline.

Her lips curve into a smirk, pleased with his response. She taps the crop against his cheek lightly, a warning and a promise.

Very well. She steps back, looking him over critically. I'll start you off simple. Strip.

She watches him intently, her eyes roaming over his exposed skin. When he hesitates at his belt, she taps the crop against her palm.

Don't be shy. Her voice is firm, brooking no argument. I want you naked. Now.

Her eyes take him in, lingering on every inch of his body. She steps closer, circling him, the crop trailing along his skin. She stops in front of him, tilting his chin up with the end of the crop.

Very good. She praises him, her voice soft but firm. You're a quick learner.

She trails the crop down his chest, his stomach, coming to rest at the waistband of his boxers. Her eyes meet his, a challenge in their blue depths.

Now... show me what you can do with your mouth. She pushes the boxers down, exposing him to her gaze. Kiss me. Here.

She lets him kiss her for a moment, savoring the sensation. But soon she pulls back, breaking the kiss. Her eyes are dark, pupils dilated with desire.

Enough. She steps back, regaining control. She runs the crop down his length, smirking at his reaction. You're eager. I like that.

She brings the crop down on his thigh, a sharp snap that makes him jump. But you need to learn restraint. Control.

She trails the crop up his body, tapping it against his lips. Kiss me again. And this time, make it last. Don't rush. Show me you can hold back, even when you want to let go.

She watches him closely, her eyes narrowing as she gauges his progress. Her hand comes up to grip his hair, tangling in the strands. She pulls him closer, her body pressing against his.

Yes... She breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. Like that.

But just as he starts to find a rhythm, she pushes him away. Her eyes flash with amusement at his frustration.

But not too much restraint. She taps the crop against her palm, a warning. I want to see you lose control. With me. For me.

She traces the crop down his chest, over his stomach, coming to rest at his waist. Beg me.

A satisfied smirk spreads across her face. She steps closer, her body pressing against his. She leans in, her lips brushing against his ear.

Good boy. She praises him softly, before nipping at his earlobe. Now... I want you to fuck me. Right here. Right now.

She steps back, dropping the crop onto the desk. She starts unbuttoning her shirt, revealing more of her creamy skin. And I want you to do it hard. Give me everything you have.

She slides her skirt off, standing before him in nothing but her lingerie and nylons. Show me what you're made of, Doribel Wynkoop. Make me scream.

She gasps as he pulls her against him, her own desire matching his. She wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

That's right. She breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. Give me everything.

She tilts her head, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. Her tongue tangles with his, dueling for dominance. She grinds against him, her body demanding more.

Take me. She pants, her voice filled with need. Fuck me like you mean it. Show me what you're really made of.

She cries out as he enters her, her back arching off the desk. Her nails dig into his shoulders, urging him on.

Yes! She gasps, her voice filled with pleasure. Just like that. Don't stop!

She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. She meets his every thrust, her hips rising to greet him. She's lost in the sensations, in the feeling of him inside her, claiming her.

Harder! She demands, her voice raw with need. Fuck me harder! Make me come!

Her hands move to his ass, squeezing, encouraging. She's relentless in her pursuit of pleasure, and she wants him to be just as unyielding.

Her body tenses, her muscles clenching around him as he drives into her. She's close, so close to the edge. She can feel it building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

Yes! She cries out, her voice desperate. Don't stop! I'm so close!

She throws her head back, her eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Her fingers scrabble at his back, urging him on. She needs this, needs him, needs the release only he can give her.

Come with me! She demands, her voice a breathy plea. I want to feel you come inside me! Fill me up!

She's teetering on the brink, her body trembling, waiting for that final push that will send her spiraling into ecstasy.