All bets are off.

I did not just say that. I did not just imply that I was going to put my hands on the girl.

Or my lips on her.

Or my cock inside her.

Leaning down to pick her panties up off of the ground was a mistake – one in a series of mistakes. My hand barely grazed her leg, but I could hardly contain myself.

I shouldn't be doing this.

I'm locked in my office with her bent over and spread, her bare pussy on display. I'm stroking my cock, nearly about to come while I look at her.

Alan's daughter.

Twenty years my junior.

Barely legal.

My student.

There are countless reasons I shouldn't be doing this – especially not with her, of all people. There are a million reasons I shouldn't touch her.

Yet I rationalized it to myself, told myself that sitting over here in the chair and not touching her would be okay. Touching myself would be fine; it's not touching her, after all.

I should have known I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of her. I should have known that she would be far too tempting to resist.

Purity spins around to look at me. Her pouty lips fall open to form an O as her eyes move from my face to my cock. Her hand flies to her lips, her fingers pressed against them as if she's trying to keep herself from speaking.

I don't want her to be quiet, though. I want to know exactly what's going through her head at this moment.

I want to know what she's thinking as she looks at me with my pants unzipped, sitting here in the chair with my hand wrapped around my cock. Pre-cum practically pours from the tip as my dick throbs in my hand. All of the blood in my body seems to have gone straight to my cock instead of my brain.

That's my only excuse for being like this in my office with her. My IQ has plummeted because of that damned plaid skirt and the little shirt and … hell, these panties that she took off because I told her to take them off.

And the breathy way she responds, "Yes, Sir."

The way she bent over my desk with her virgin pussy on display, whimpering like she did.

The fact that she had to touch herself even when I told her not to, simply because she couldn't help herself.

Purity was raised to be a good girl, but she's far less of a good girl than I expected. There's a bad girl lurking underneath that exterior. She just needs someone to release it for her. I shouldn't be that man, but I can't think of anything else I'd rather do.

"What do you mean?" she whispers. "When you say that all bets are off, what do you mean?"

I could shut this down right now. I could zip my pants and buckle my belt and explain to her that this can't happen, that she has to leave.

If I were a good man, that's what I would do.

But when she looks at me with those wide eyes and those flushed cheeks, I know before she speaks another word that I'm done for. My self-control is demolished. My cock is hard to the point of exploding, and my balls are heavy and aching – and this girl is standing in front of me wearing a schoolgirl outfit and asking me what I mean when I say all bets are off.

I'll show her exactly what I mean.

I slide forward in the chair, my cock hard and fully on display for her. She's never seen one before. It's difficult to imagine anyone being that sheltered in the age of the internet, but her father blocked her from everything. I should feel badly about what I'm about to do with this sheltered little girl, but I want her far too much, and I'm far too hard to care.

"Come here, Purity," I order.

She complies, walking over to me with her expression timid and nervous – everything except for her eyes. Those are fixated on my cock. She licks her lips as she stares at it. I'm not even sure she's aware she's doing it, either. My dick twitches at the idea that she wants to taste it. "I've never – you know – done anything before," she says, her voice soft.

No fucking shit.

I'm more than aware of that fact. I'm acutely aware that this girl has no experience to speak of. I should be taking it slow, holding her hand and taking her out on dates. I should be saying "I love you" before bending her over and fucking her.

But I'm not that guy.

"I warned you not to play with fire," I tell her, "but you had to go and touch yourself, didn't you?"

"I… I'm so…" She gives me a contrite glance.

"You're so worked up," I finish for her. "And no one's ever touched that wet little pussy except you."

"No, Sir."

"I'm going to be the first. Do you understand? I'm going to be the only one."

I don't know why I say the last part. I shouldn't care if I'm the only one. But she nods in agreement anyway.

"You touched yourself before I gave you permission, though. Bad little girls who can't control themselves need to be punished, don't they?"

Her only response is to bite her lower lip. I want to bite it for her.

"I'm afraid I'll have to dole out punishment, Ms. Taylor." I reach for her arm, pulling her onto my lap. When her ass lands on my thigh, she lets out a little squeal.

"What is my punishment, Sir?" Her bare pussy is pressed against my pants, her warmth on my thigh as she squirms around, spreading her legs to straddle mine. She's so tiny that it would be too easy to put my hands on her waist, pick her up, and pull her forward a few inches in order to impale her on my hard cock. She's wet enough (I can feel it through the fabric of my pants) that it would be simple to slip inside of her, even if she is a tight little virgin.

But as much as I want to fuck her senseless right now, I can't. I'm not that much of an animal.

At least I have some sense of reason left.

Instead, I peel her off of my lap and turn her over onto her stomach, pulling her tightly to me. The side of her hip pushes against the base of my cock, and I watch in detached fascination as pre-cum drips from my tip, threatening to spill onto her skin.

I want to see my cum all over this girl's skin. I want to paint her in it.

"Girls who have no self-control and can't refrain from touching themselves in front of their teachers get spanked," I tell her, my voice sharp.

She squeaks, turning her face to look at me. "You're… you're going to spank me?"

With one hand firmly on the outside of her waist holding her fast against me, I use my other hand to flip up her plaid schoolgirl skirt, revealing her perfect bare bottom. I palm her smooth, creamy skin, watching her shudder at my touch as I caress her curves. "Oh, I'm planning to do so much more than spank you."

She whimpers as I push my palm between her thighs, careful to avoid touching her glistening pussy as I spread her. Drawing back my hand, I bring it down hard onto her ass cheek. The cracking sound it makes as my palm connects with her flesh almost disguises the low groan she lets out.

A groan. Not a whimper or a yelp or a moan.

The innocent virgin preacher's daughter fucking groans.

Purity pushes her ass back, wiggling on my lap like she's begging for more. So I give it to her, bringing my hand down sharply on the other side. Her breasts sway when I hit her, brushing against my thigh. For a second, I feel a pang of guilt when she whimpers again, but it's quickly erased as she squirms around.

"How many times should I spank you, Ms. Taylor?" I smack her ass again. I don't know why spanking her feels so damned good, but I can't seem to stop.

"I… I don't know."

Smack.

"Why don't I spank you once for every dirty thought I've had about you?"

Smack.

"How many…" She gasps as I spank her again. "How many times would that be?"

Smack.

"Too fucking many to count." My heart is pounding in my chest as I move my palm over her rear, soothing her irritated skin. Bright red handprints – my handprints – glow on her skin.

I've left my mark on her.

That thought should be terrifying. I've never felt like that about anyone in my life until now. Possessive and controlling aren't qualities I've ever aspired to – but now they seem to be bubbling up to the surface like they've been lurking underneath all along. Worse, they're coming up right now with her, the last person I should feel this way about.

I bring my hand down on her again, harder this time, like I'm punishing her for the way I feel about her.

Smack.

She lets out a moan. "Maybe you should spank me once for every dirty thought I've had about you."

"How many spankings would that involve, Ms. Taylor?" I pause with my hand drawn back. My cock leaks more pre-cum at the thought of her fantasizing about us, lying in bed at night with her fingers between her legs.

"Too many to count," she whispers.

Smack.

"Bad girl." My hand caresses her bright red ass cheek. "I expect you to tell me all of the dirty thoughts you've had about me. Do you understand?"

"What if they're… really, really bad?" she stammers.

I could come right now at the thought of this good girl having really, really bad thoughts about me. Instead, I slide my hand between her legs, ready to reward her for the way she's so turned on by this. Pressing my fingertips against her clit, I enjoy the way she lets out a long moan under her breath. "If they're really, really bad, that's all the more reason to tell me, don't you think?"

"No one's ever touched me there before," she whispers.

"Should I stop?" I pause, my fingertips pressed hard against her. I know she doesn't want me to stop, but I like teasing the girl. She wiggles around on my lap, her hips pushing back and her ass moving up and down as she tries to rock against my fingers to pleasure herself.

"Please," she whimpers.

"Does the little virgin want to stay pure and virginal, or would she like someone else to make her come for the very first time?"

She whines, bucking her hips against me, grinding on my fingers with her ass in the air. "I want to come."

When I respond, my voice is ragged. "I wasn't going to touch you today, Purity. I was going to be good. The problem is that you make me want to be a very bad man."

"I want to be bad, too," she whimpers. I pinch her clit between my fingers, and she lets out a groan, humping my hand as she begins to lose control. Pre-cum drips steadily from my cock and dots the side of her t-shirt. I'm in very real danger of coming on this girl without a single touch.

That's fucking ridiculous.

I'm losing my mind over her.

I groan as I circle her clit over and over with my fingers. "This clit is so wet and swollen. I'll bet your pussy is just as wet and tight and swollen, too, isn't it? I'll bet you're dying to feel my fingers inside of it, aren't you?"

She moans louder. "Yes, Sir."

"Well, you'll need to be a good girl if you want to earn a finger-fuck. Only good little girls get to come on their teacher's fingers."

"I'll be good," she begs. Her whimpers are becoming more frequent.

"Do you promise? Being good means that I'm the only one who makes you come now. You come for my fingers, my tongue, my cock. No one else's – including your own. You don't touch yourself. You save everything for me."

"Yes, yes, yes." She bucks harder against my hand. It's really unfair of me to make her promise me things in this state. She's so desperate to come that she'll promise me the world. "Oh my God, yes. I can't breathe."

"I should stop, then," I tease, pausing my movements. "I'd hate for you to not be able to breathe."

"No, no," she begs. "Please, don't stop. Don't stop."

"I don't know." I pretend to reconsider things as she squirms around on me defiantly, still trying to use me to get off by herself even though I just told her that I'm the one who decides when she orgasms.

She's still trying to retain control.

I love that she's only compliant on the surface.

"Please, Mr. Gabe," she begs.

"Tell me the bad things you want me to teach you," I groan. My cock is close to bursting. "Tell me what you want to learn from me and I'll let you come."

"Um…" She hesitates. I'm not even sure if she knows enough about sex to know what she wants at all, but I want to hear her try to tell me. I want to hear her utter dirty, previously forbidden words.

I want to hear her articulate previously forbidden thoughts.

"I'm waiting, Ms. Taylor," I remind her.

"I want to learn how to… you know…" she whines, grinding her hips against me. Placing my hand on her lower back, I hold her firmly to prevent her from moving an inch.

"I don't know, Purity," I say. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to know… to know how to touch a man."

I feel a low rumble in my throat. "You'll have to be more specific than that, little girl," I growl. "Would you like me to teach you how to wrap your hand around my cock and jerk me off? Would you like me to come all over your hand?"

She takes in a sharp breath. "Yes."

"What else?"

"I want to know… how to use my… how to use my mouth on you."

I can't help but growl louder this time. The thought of this girl putting her mouth on me makes me want to fuck her face without a single moment's consideration of the consequences.

Instead, I roll my fingertips over her clit to reward her for her honesty. "Do you want me to teach you how to suck a man's cock, Purity?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what you'd do if I let you."

"I'd … oh God," she moans, grinding against me. "I'd put my lips around your…your cock… and I'd put my tongue on it, and I'd taste your…"

Her voice drifts off.

"Say it, Purity," I order as my fingers roll around her clit faster and faster. Her hips jerk in an increasing rhythm. She can't know how ridiculous she looks right now, turned over my lap the way she is with her legs splayed and her skirt pulled up to expose her bare behind as she humps my hand. She looks disheveled and silly – and she's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. "What would you taste?"

I'm so fucking close to coming that I can't think straight.

"I want to taste… you… your… oh my God… your cum."

Then she does it. Her entire body convulses, and she begins to scream. I have to grab her hair with my free hand, yanking her head back and growling at her to be quiet before the whole damned English department hears her. She doesn't stop, so I clamp my palm over her mouth to silence her, and she moans into my hand.

I'm fixated on her, completely mesmerized at the sight of her convulsing on my lap, moaning against my hand with her eyes tightly shut.

I don't let her finish coming. I can't wait. I'm too far gone to care about anything right now, certainly not about behaving like a gentleman toward her. If I were a gentleman, I'd take more care with her and let her recover from her orgasm.

But I'm not.

Her entire body is trembling and half-limp as I pull her up from my lap to a standing position. "Stand up, Purity," I order, my voice low. "One leg on either side of mine." Her legs wobble and she's unsteady, but I take her by the hands and place them on my shoulders, then move her legs so that she's standing above me to straddle me.

She's too dazed by her orgasm to object to doing anything except what I tell her to do. She straddles me without question, moving exactly where I put her. She's like an obedient little doll.

My little doll.

I push up the front of her skirt to reveal her pussy, glistening with her wetness. My mouth salivates at the thought of what she tastes like, but I refrain from trying her out. "Hold up your skirt, doll," I command. "I want to see that pussy."

"What are you going to do?" she asks quietly. But her hand goes to her skirt, and she lifts it for me.

She knows what I’m going to do. She stands there, her legs on either side of mine, and looks down at me, knowing full and well what I'm about to do. I stroke my cock with swift movements, aiming it directly between her legs.

Aiming it at her bare virgin pussy.

"I'm going to come all over your virgin cunt," I groan. "You're going to feel cum on your pussy for the first time, and you're going to walk home knowing that it was you who made me come on you. My cum is the only cum you'll ever feel between your legs."

I'm not sure why I add that last part.

"Yes, Sir," she breathes.

It's the "Sir" that sends me over the edge, exploding all over her pussy, just like I promised to do. I'm panting, and my pulse is pounding so hard in my ears that at first I think the knocking sound I hear is inside of my head.

Then Purity looks at me with wide eyes and panic on her face. "Someone's knocking on your door."

"Huh?" I'm holding my cock, cum drizzling onto my hand. Purity is straddling me with her hair disheveled, her eyes bright, and wearing no panties. My office reeks of sex.

Right now, it's safe to say we're pretty fucked if anyone sees us like this.

She springs from my lap lightning-fast, grabbing her panties from the floor and tossing them across the room behind my desk. If I weren't so hurriedly tucking myself back into my pants, this entire thing would be laughable.

As it is now, it's hardly humorous.

I put my hand to the door as Purity gives me a frantic glare, mouthing, "Wait a second!" while she straightens her skirt.

When I pull open the door, Purity is sitting in the chair where not five minutes ago she was bent over my lap with her skirt at her waist, bare-assed and moaning. Now she has her legs crossed, her notebook and pen in her lap, and looks like the very picture of virtue.

"I know you said not to disturb you, Professor Ryan, but I forgot to have you sign Professor Gilbert's birthday card, and we're going to give her the present that – oh, I apologize." Gina, the increasingly annoying and persistent assistant for the English department, looks at Purity. "I didn't realize you were meeting with a student."

"That's okay." Purity rises before I can stop her, clutching her notebook to her chest. "I was actually just finished. Thank you for the help with the assignment, Professor Ryan. I'm much clearer on what I need to do to improve my work."

I hide a smile.

To be honest, I'm a little bit taken aback – and impressed – by Purity's calm demeanor and casual attitude. The preacher's daughter just got spanked and had an orgasm at the hand of someone else for the first time ever. You would think she'd be slightly more ruffled than she is right now – especially since the girl normally blushes at the drop of a hat.

Instead, she gives me a curt little nod and squeezes past Gina, who hands me the birthday card to sign as if there's nothing unusual going on here at all.

"See you Monday, Professor Ryan," Purity calls. Then she disappears into the hallway.

"See you, Ms. Taylor."

What's even stranger than the way that Purity walked out the door is the fact that I can't stop thinking about the girl all weekend.

I also write.

I write and I write and I write and I write. And for the first time in a year – since that time I came down with the flu and literally couldn't get out of bed – I miss brunch. I feign a cough and lie to my brother. When Angelo grabs the phone and insists on driving homemade chicken soup all the way down to my house, I double-down on the lie and equally emphatically insist that I don't want to contaminate either of them with my germs.

I think Nate is suspicious, but he doesn't say anything.

I'll blame my crazy behavior on the writing when I see them again. If I went to brunch, Nate would want to know all about what I'm writing. He'd take one look at my face and immediately know something was up that had nothing to do with writing.

He can't know about what's going on with Purity. No one can.