Tina's Birthday Wish

Michael Baxton had always thought of himself as a mildly attractive man. In truth, he was far more than plain; the female teachers at Lennon High talked about their colleague, the 12th grade history teacher, in whispers around the teacher's lounge. His broad shoulders, his winning smile, and his piercing gray eyes halted conversations when he walked in the room, just so the women could turn and stare at the brown hair that fell perfectly across his forehead. Some of the single ones had even considered asking him on dates, just to see what a man that hot would be like in bed, but they had yet to approach him.

It would have been futile, anyways. Michael's attention that year had been focused on a singular person: Tina Leighton, a student in his third period class. On this day in particular, Michael found it hard to teach third period. Tina had walked into the room today with armfuls of presents and two balloons displaying the number 18. Pleased to have an excuse to ask, Michael brought it up during class and discovered that her 18th birthday had been Saturday. After having the class sing her "Happy Birthday" and safely stowing her balloons in the back of the room, Michael set the class to independent work and went behind his desk to, supposedly, enter grades on his computer. Instead, he used his vantage point to watch Tina as she wrote. Her long, blonde hair fell across the desk as she leaned over, looking at her paper. Inadvertently, Michael thought, it also gave him a view of her cleavage: a magnificent sight, the curves of her breasts forming on her chest, then melting away into her shirt, hiding the nipples he could only imagine.

As subtle as he tried to be, Tina always knew when Mr. Baxton was watching her. She tossed her hair so it would display perfectly, she wore a shirt that would allow her to lean over, and she savored the feeling, even if she never looked, that Mr. Baxton was watching her, imagining her soft breasts, the feel of her hair, the touch of her lips. Unable to stand the suspense, Tina chanced a quick glance under his desk - so quick that he would not notice her eye movement - and saw a telltale bulge in Mr. Baxton's trousers. She smiled a small, hidden smile, then focused on her work. A thought formed in her mind, then: if she did not finish her work, perhaps she could come back after school for some, say, individual attention?

When the bell rang, Tina sat up, feigning surprise. She looked at the clock, then at her paper, and bit her lip softly in a way that she knew could drive a man wild. She took her paper up to the front, careful to be last in line to turn in her work. When she and Mr. Baxton were the last people in the room, she walked over to him, looking concerned.

"Mr. Baxton," Tina started, her voice wavering.

Michael's heart leaped, and he looked over to see Tina standing next to his desk, with her paper in hand.

"Yes, Tina? What is it?" He fought to keep his voice level, so as not to give away his agitated state.

"Mr. Baxton, I didn't get to finish my essay," Tina went on, keeping the tiniest quiver in her voice. "I was so wrapped up in the subject that I didn't plan my essay well, and..." She was nervous about this part. "Well, I was wondering if I could, um, come in after school, maybe, and finish it." Mentally, she slapped herself. Why didn't I ask for his help? Now he'll think I don't want him, I just want more time!

Michael couldn't believe his ears. He knew Tina's work - it had never been incredible, and she'd never shown the slightest inclination that she could get wrapped up in history.

"Sure, Tina," he heard himself saying. Why am I giving her extra time? he thought as the words spilled out of his mouth. I know she doesn't need it..."Of course you can have some more time. Come in after school and finish your work."

Tina beamed at him, and Michael felt like his pants would split from the strain. She practically bounced to the back of the room to gather her balloons and presents, and it was all Michael could do to hold in the groans of longing that threatened to spill out of him. As Tina walked out of the room, Michael called after her.

"Happy birthday, Tina."

Tina spun around, her hair whipping across her back to fall gracefully on her shoulders, and graced him with one last, dazzling smile before heading off to lunch. With that, Michael raced to the teacher's bathroom, praying no one was in there - he needed to take care of this erection, of these feelings, before anyone noticed.

After her last class, Tina could hardly contain her excitement. She had dropped off everything in her locker but her history notebook, and now she headed to Mr. Baxton's classroom. She tried to go in, but it was locked and the shades were down. Tina knocked on the door, hoping Mr. Baxton hadn't forgotten. After a little while, she knocked again, and almost instantly, Mr. Baxton opened the door.

"Hi, Tina. Sorry about that, I usually like to work in privacy after school," Michael stammered, embarrassed that a student had almost caught him - that Tina had almost caught him - trying to forget, well, Tina. But there she stood, waiting for him.

"It's all right, Mr. Baxton, I was just worried you'd forgotten," Tina replied. Michael moved out of the way, allowing Tina into the classroom, and closed and locked the door behind her. Tina sat down, in the very front row, and opened her notebook to her essay.

Tina took about ten minutes to write, hastily finishing up her essay. She had noticed Mr. Baxton lock the door, and she was going to take advantage of it. Tina tore the essay out of her notebook and brought it up to Mr. Baxton.

"Mr. Baxton, I'm finished," Tina said timidly. As Mr. Baxton took her paper, Tina started, "Mr. Baxton, I have something really important to tell you."

Michael looked up at her quizzically. "Of course, Tina, you can tell me anything."

"Well, Mr. Baxton," Tina continued, "I sort of, um, well, I sort of have a crush on you. Like, a big one. And since I'm eighteen now, and it's sort of my birthday, well, I was hoping that maybe you'd, um, like to give me a present."

Michael's brain fought for control. She's a student, he reminded himself, but that didn't stop blood from flowing where it ought not to. "A present?" he asked, buying himself some time.

Tina scooted around behind his desk, placing her hand on his where it rested on his mouse. The touch electrified both of them, startling him into staring into her bright green eyes. She saw him freeze, and read the shock and pleasure radiating from his gray ones.

His pants nearly bursting, Michael tried once more to put his mind in control. "Tina, you're a very beautiful girl," he said, and that was all he could get out before Tina covered his lips with hers. Unwittingly, he kissed her back, grabbing her hand and moving them away from the computer. He found himself letting her tongue slip between his lips as she crawled on top of him. Michael didn't know how long they sat there, but when she finally broke for air, she got off him and onto the floor.

"Tina, we can't, I'm your teacher-" he stammered as she undid his pants.

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone," Tina breathed, anxious for what she would find under those trousers she had long observed. As she pulled down his boxers, his cock sprang out, fully hard and longing for her. She placed one hand on it, running her fingers up and down the shaft dextrously. Mr. Baxton let out an involuntary groan as his dick flexed at her touch. Tina grinned hungrily, then sat back. She wanted to do this right.

Michael was rooted to his chair. There was nowhere to go, and there was nowhere he wanted to go. He had to run, had to stop, but couldn't wait to feel her wrapped around his cock. As Tina slowly lifted her shirt above her head, he stared at her perfect breasts, now only shielded by a flimsy bra patterned with flowers and edged in lace. She tossed her shirt aside and leaned toward him again.

Tina continued with the handjob, slipping her other hand under her skirt, then her panties - which, for all the fabric they contained, barely qualified as such - to slide her fingers along her own parts. She stared hungrily at Mr. Baxton's cock, wanting, needing to take it into her mouth, but knowing that he wasn't quite there yet. She inched closer, still running her hand back and forth, from base to tip, until she was so close she could kiss it. And yet, she waited just a few seconds more. Breathing heavily, she rubbed harder and faster both against herself and Mr. Baxton. Then, in one fluid motion, she pulled him into her mouth and braced herself on the arms of his chair.

Michael had known he was into Tina. Michael had known he was fantasizing about Tina. But he had not known how good, how amazing, how fucking right it would feel to have her sucking his cock. And now, he merely reveled in the feeling. He leaned his head back involuntarily, moaning with distinct pleasure as she ran her tongue all around his shaft. How could she do that? he wondered, how can she use these simple patterns with her tongue, but never the same two in a row? And oh, God, how is she so good at eighteen? But these thoughts were driven out of his head by the throbbing pleasure he could feel building at the base of his cock. He knew they had to move on.

Tina could have sucked Mr. Baxton's cock all day, she was enjoying it that much. She'd never had a cock so firm, so responsive to her touch. She had almost forgotten he was even there until Mr. Baxton gripped her hair and yanked her head away from him, pulling her off his cock. For a moment, she was puzzled, and then he stood up, dragging her with him by her hair. This time, she yelped in pain. "Mr. Baxton, that hurts!" He just looked at her, with those piercing gray eyes, and she froze.

"Take off your bra." There was no room for doubt, it was an order, and she scrambled to obey as his hold on her hair relaxed. He moved past her and shoved some papers off the table at the front of the room. "Lie down on the table."

Michael watched as Tina, now braless, moved over to the table and lifted one leg, then the other, carefully up. He almost wanted to just take her from behind, right there, while she was getting settled. He didn't know how he had waited this long to fuck her, how could he have waited like this? The little slut had been begging for it, with her low-cut shirts, her perfectly timed flounces, the way she bit her lip. But he waited until Tina had lain herself down on her back, legs bent, exposing her thong, toes just barely off the edge. Michael went to her feet first, slipping off one sandal, then the other, and dropping them to the floor. As he saw Tina grip the sides of the table in anticipation, he placed his left hand on her right knee and waited. If the tease could make him wait for his blowjob, she would wait, too.

Tina had never seen the look in Mr. Baxton's eyes that she did right now. She had seen them frustrated, when she would play with her hair, or full of longing, when she would just barely bounce her breasts walking into class. Now, they were hungry, almost feral. His eyes caught her normally - his eyes were the only thing that had made her pay attention in history, until she noticed them straying to her bosom. But Mr. Baxton had definitely not been using their full force. Tina was frozen under his gaze, watching him watch her, one hand on her knee. She knew what was coming next, but it would be on his terms. He was in charge.

She waited, as Mr. Baxton rested his hand on her knee, but moved his gaze all over her body. He had frozen her with eye contact, and from the eye contact he moved his gaze to her hair, and Tina could feel her body respond as though he were touching it. He slowly slid his eyes down to her neck, then her breasts. She felt him almost move to touch them, and the longer he stared, the more acutely she became aware of the fact that she was almost naked in front of Mr. Baxton - and he was staring at her naked breasts. Her nipples rose as she made this realization, celebrating the moment, reveling in his gaze, until he finally moved down, down past her bellybutton, finally lavishing his attention on her pussy. Even though it was partially covered by her thong, Mr. Baxton stared at her folds for longer than he had at her breasts, and Tina could feel everything down there responding. Her clit became hard and her walls began to throb, excited for the cock they knew had to be coming. And yet he just stared. She had almost begun to wonder if he actually meant to fuck her when he moved.

Michael savored the moments when he saw her nipples rise, when he saw her clit harden, when he saw her pink folds darken to red. And when he had finished tasting those moments, he slid his hand up her leg, from her knee to her hip and back again. He rubbed her thigh slowly and evenly, hearing her gasp in delight at just this simple touch. Only when her breathing settled into a pattern did he bring his other hand into play. Michael slid his left hand up her thigh, then under her skirt and around to rest on the side of her bare ass, lifting her slightly. Then he moved in with his right hand, picking up the string that rested, soaked, in her folds and pulling it downwards. In this way, he removed her panties, ignoring the shudder of delight that ran through her as his finger brushed against her mound. Dropping the flimsy fabric to the floor, he reached in with his right hand and pushed her left thigh outwards. After taking one last, lingering look at her lips, he dove in.

Tina knew what "eating pussy" meant, she had just never thought she might like it, and so had never let anyone try it. But this, this was not just eating pussy. When Mr. Baxton leaned forward, he kissed the outsides of her folds, then her clit, then he took her clit in his mouth and sucked - really sucked, as though it were a straw. Tina moaned, reeling with pleasure. Then she felt his tongue, such a warm, wet muscle, licking her, tasting her, but not going inside her. He licked first up one side of the walls, then the other, and finally one long lick from almost her ass to her clit. Mr. Baxton flicked his tongue upwards at the last second so it struck her clit, and Tina was hit with a burst of pleasure so intense that she didn't understand how she hadn't come right there. Then he really got to work, licking inside, thrusting his tongue into her hole. Tina groaned in appreciation, writhing as Mr. Baxton's tongue reached inside her, touching parts of herself she never knew could be stimulated. She could feel the tension building inside her, coming to a climax, when Mr. Baxton stopped, pulling back.

Michael waited, knowing Tina had been right on the verge. He stood up, pulling her towards him, towards his rock hard shaft. And then he waited some more, wanting nothing more than to thrust, to penetrate, to drill - but not until he heard what he wanted.

And then, involuntarily, Tina screamed.

"Mr. Baxton, fuck me! Please, just fuck me!"

And he did.

Michael pounded his way into Tina, not bothering with any sort of gentleness. The time for gentle had been when he was eating her out; now, he was going to fuck her. Each thrust forced its way inside her, eliciting moans, grunts, and gasps as he slid between her lips. His cock reached up and forward, taking as much space as it could, claiming her pussy as his. "Mine," Michael grunted, "you're finally mine, you fucking tease," as he saw Tina alternately stiffen, then go limp, reveling at the feeling of fullness as his cock flexed to take her.

Tina knew she stretched around him, felt his thrusts, moved her hips in time to take as much of him in as possible, but she felt nothing except the pleasure coursing through her body, radiating from her walls and clit to consume her. She lost herself to the waves emanating from every stroke, not comprehending separate orgasms as one rolled right into the next, and reached her arms around the sides of the table, gripping it hard enough that she felt she might splinter the wood. Now, he had her, and she moaned loudly as he pounded her vulva. She wanted him to come inside her, to feel his seed warm in her belly, to know that he had taken full advantage of her body. And Tina knew that each thrust, as it pushed her from one orgasm to the next, also built the pleasure inside him.

Michael had become so focused on Tina's vulva around his cock that he didn't notice his own rising orgasm. She felt so good, so right around his shaft, warm and wet as he fucked her, that the final strokes came as a surprise to him. It seemed to build suddenly: the pressure in his balls, then the ultimate pleasure as he thrust hard, harder than he had been before, which elicited a yelp from Tina as he seemed to try to force his whole pelvis inside her. A few more strokes as his balls squeezed, the pleasure rushing to his brain and down his cock and back, and he was done. As his cock went limp, he slid out of Tina, turning away and staggering back to his desk chair.

Tina lay there, her nipples hard and tingling in the air, breathing hard. She could feel Mr. Baxton's semen dripping out of her slit as the warmth of her orgasms began to cool, lying on the table in the afterglow. As her arousal faded, she sat up, her skirt falling back into place, and looked at Mr. Baxton, who was sitting in his desk chair in only his unbuttonned shirt. Tina chanced a glance towards her favorite bulge, seeing the flaccid penis that had just spent itself in her. Slowly, a grin built itself on her face, and she hopped down from the table to collect her clothes.

Michael watched her dress, his thoughts in a post-coital fog, keeping the panic at bay. Fucking a student...how much trouble was he going to be in? What kind of blackmail could she do with this? But it had been so good, and he wanted to linger in that state for just a bit longer. As Tina pulled on her sweater, he realized he no longer saw an unobtainable goddess in front of him, but a woman, soft and simple. The spell was broken.

"Tina..."

Tina didn't want to deal with his baggage. She knew it would be much, much worse for Mr. Baxton if this ever went beyond the two of them, and she was in no position to deal with that. She picked up his pants from the floor and handed them to him, then kissed him on the cheek. He placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her at arm's length.

"Tina, I don't know...I don't...this can't..." He was cut off by her finger on his lips.

"You gave me a birthday present. One of the best I'm likely to get this year," she giggled. "I've wanted that for a long time."

"Me too," Michael breathed.

Tina took a step back from Mr. Baxton, then said simply, "Thank you." She gathered her balloons and presents and let herself out of the classroom, careful not to open the door too far to expose Mr. Baxton's exposed state to the hallway, then closed it quietly behind her.

Inside the classroom, Michael smiled. "Happy birthday, Tina," he said to the empty classroom.