Story was a request from someone who wishes not to be named. Don't know why not, though. Ms. DiMartino is a top tier QT. The best of the best. But regardless, I hope you like it, man and sorry it took so long.

This story is also dedicated to all the safefags who cry over Lincoln X Older Woman ships. Lol

Lincoln's horror truly set in when he looked up at the clock and realized that, after ten minutes, the only thing he had written on his test paper was his name. He hadn't even written the date, but then again, the exact day was lost to him. His mind seemed blank and empty. Every factoid and chapter summary he had read over yesterday was buried too deep in his gray matter for him to retrieve.

Basically put, he had a test and had no idea what he was doing.

"And I thought multiple choice was supposed to be easy," he whispered. He kept his voice as low as possible, so that his teacher wouldn't assume he was cheating.

"Lincoln, no talking."

"S-Sorry, Ms. DiMartino," the young man apologized out loud.

Ah, Ms. DiMartino. She was the best and worst thing to ever happen to his classroom. The young teacher was capable enough: she was responsible, nurturing and Lincoln supposed she did a good job teaching the material. But, truthfully, that wasn't what Lincoln focused on most during her lessons. The moment she entered the class, his mind would switch from that of a normal human being to that of an absolutely hormonal caveman.

He wasn't alone in that, and who could really blame him and the other boys in his class? Between her bronze skin that glistened in the sunlight, her dark brown hair that fell to her enticing waist, her attire which consisted of golden earrings, red and pink clothes, and tall black high heels, she was a catch by every definition of the word. More times than not, Lincoln would catch himself staring at her. When she looked back, his eyes skirted away and his face flushed red, but he always came to the same conclusion.

She has really nice eyes.

He was staring again. Her beauty was siren-like, distracting him from his important exam. But in the presence of such an alluring image of womanhood, what did numbers and letters really matter? Who cares which states Napoleon sold to the Americans? Did it really matter why Turkey moved their capital from Istanbul? Not to Lincoln. Not when she was there.

His eyes were trained on her, admiring her, for the rest of the test session. It wasn't until she stood up and walked to the door, hips sashaying with every step, that Lincoln's eyes fell on the clock at the front of the class. His heart immediately went from fluttery to cold. There were only five minutes left!

He cursed himself and began circling random answers, completely lost as to whether any of them were right or wrong. He was certain he was going to fail, and he placed half the blame on himself. The other half he put on her. Curse her alluring majesty!

The bell rang, ending their session. Lincoln rushed to the front and handed in his paper. She smiled at him as she reached for his test. Her fingers graced his hand with their soft touch, and a light gasp emerged from his throat. "Thank you for your test, Lincoln," she said in her accented voice.

"Y-You too. I mean, uh, thank you for giving us a test. I mean, um… have a good day."

She giggled lightly, and he just wanted to die.

Two days later, his name floated from her lips.

"Lincoln Loud!"

He was, as usual, staring at her from his comfortable seat at the back of the class. His elbow was pressed into his desk, and his hand held up his blushing face. Until she said his name, he truthfully hadn't been paying much attention to what she was saying. He was focused on Ms. DiMartino's mouth, but not the words emerging from it. He watched it meld and form words, and imagined what he wanted to do to those red lips. Want, lust, and love stabbed his heart every moment in her class.

But when she said his name, he snapped out of his daze and run up to the front of the class to get his test paper from her. Ms. DiMartino shook her head as he grabbed it, and he quickly saw why.

He had failed. Miserably. A bright red F+ for his troubles.

The plus was probably the most insulting part of all.

"H-How?" he asked. "I swear I studied the whole night!"

"I'm sorry, Lincoln, but you must have studied the wrong material or studied the wrong way. I can't believe that you studied hard if you have the lowest grade in the class."

"Lincoln has the lowest grade? That means that I don't for once!" Zach cheered.

"I swear I did study, though," Lincoln said in a distraught tone.

She pursed his lips, her hazel eyes giving him a questioning look. As bad as situation was, Lincoln couldn't stop himself from getting lost in her gaze.

"Go back to your seat for now, Lincoln."

He sighed and nodded. He shambled to the back of the class, head hung and posture low. When he slumped into his chair, he looked at his paper again and grimaced. He knew some of these answers. Hell, he knew most of these answers. The answer to the first question 'Which of the following countries is NOT a member of NATO?' was clearly Russia, not Canada as he had marked it.

"Glad I know that now," he groaned, slumping his head on the desk.

The rest of the day was a slow, crawling, depressing little blur. Everything went in one ear and flew out the other. The mind in between the two ears was too focused on providing Lincoln with as many miserable thoughts and memories of past failures to absorb any new knowledge. To add insult to injury, Lincoln could not get comfortable in his seat at all. He shifted and scooted from side to side, growling with each motion, but no matter what he did, the wooden seat he was sitting on was just unbearable. And, as just a final, subtle little "screw-you" to the white-haired boy, there was a fire drill. No fire in the school, but the Sun pretty much burned him alive.

When the bell mercifully rang and ended the day, Lincoln felt a hint of excitement. At least he would finally be able to go home. The rest of the class rushed out the door as Lincoln put his pens and pencils in his pencil case. He gathered the rest of his things, stuffed them in his bag, and started to head out the door when…

"Lincoln, may I have a moment, please?"

"Geh," he responded intelligently, swiftly following it up with a cough. "Uh, yeah, sure. Wh-What is it?"

He turned around slowly, heat enveloping his body. The window was positioned right behind his teacher's head, and in the orange glow of the sunset, her hair seemed to burn and radiate with fire. Not the dangerous, frightening fire that burned people alive, but the soft and warm fires that people huddled around and put their hands to during the cold nights. It was as if the frost on his disappointed heart was slowly thawing just by the sight of it.

Ms. DiMartino preened a strand of hair away from her face before reaching to her desk and grabbing a piece of paper, tapping it with her finger before returning her sight to her student. "I want to talk to you about your grades."

"My grades?"

She nodded. "I've noticed a steep drop in your in-class work and tests lately. Your homework seems to be fine, though. However, what I've really noticed is that your grades weren't always like this. In the beginning of the year, back with Agnes, you were achieving well. But around the time I took over for her… well, I suppose what I really want to ask is..."

Lincoln gulped, blushing furiously, and began mentally preparing himself for the worst…

"Are you having troubles at home?"

Huh?

"What… what does that have to do with anything?"

His teacher sighed. "Usually, a drop in grades indicates something else is wrong in a student's life. So have you been having any troubles with your parents?"

"No, not really."

"Are you being bullied at school, then?"

He kinda was, but that was really par for the course. Plus, it wasn't like his bullies were even that bad. They just called him queer or pussy every once in a while. Nothing to cry about.

"No, I'm not being bullied either."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Lincoln," she rolled his name in a way that made his heart flutter, "is this a 'no snitching' thing that you students do? I promise if you are being bullied, I won't tell whoever it was that you complained when I call them in."

"I'm being serious. No bullying. I-I'm actually a bit of a bully myself," he said, flexing a muscle. The intention was to look tough and impress, but he immediately realized how stupid the words that came out of his mouth were. He put his bicep away and quickly muttered "Uh, I'm not a bully either," under his breath.

Ms. DiMartino raised her hand to her chin, tapping it repeatedly with her pointer finger in thought. From time to time, her sharp, red nail scraped her feminine lips, and Lincoln blushed every time. What's worse is that he felt a swelling in his pants with every thoughtful look from his teacher. Why was he so hyperfixated on her lips? Probably because of his imagination of what she could do it him with those lips… what he'd let her do…

"If it's not bullying… if it's not issues with your familia… then I can only come up with one other explanation."

"Which is?"

Her eyes wandered down from staring at the ceiling to meet his azure irises. He had the instinctive reaction to look away, but forced himself to hold his ground. Her face was neutral, reading less of emotion and more of an odd curiosity. Like a curious deer. A really sexy deer~

"Lincoln, I've noticed several times in class that while you're supposed to be doing your quizzes or tests, you stop your work and instead… well, there's no easy way to say it, look at me instead."

Was it possible to have a complete, painful heart attack and recover in just a millisecond? Because that's what Lincoln felt.

"Uh… I… well, uh..."

"Don't be too ashamed, Lincoln," she sighed. "I suppose it's only natural. But it is distracting, to both you and me. Of course, it is also very… flattering..."

Lincoln's eyes widened as he realized that Ms. DiMartino, his teacher, his crazy attractive teacher, was now blushing herself. Her? Blushing? Was it even possible? Lincoln had read in a book that the most beautiful goddesses in Greek myth like Artemis and Athena never fell in love. He had just assumed that Ms. D was the same way.

"So let me offer you a… proposal," she said the last word with extra emphasis. "I shall be giving you private lessons. Tutoring you in History, as well as the Math and Science classes you're taking with me and also failing (thankfully, your English and Spanish are still fine). Does that sound good to you?"

"P-P-P-P-Private lessons?"

Ms. DiMartino frowned slightly. "On second thought, maybe your English does need work too."

"I… well, I don't know, Ms. DiMartino. I think-"

All protests and objections were quickly shut down when Ms. DiMartino smiled at him. It wasn't a normal smile, the kind a teacher usually gives a student. It was a more sultry, seductive smile, dripping with honey. She knew the force of her expression, and she used it to silence him long enough for her to grab the sides of heated face and draw him in. Her hairs touched his hair and skin, and she licked her lips.

Then she kissed him.

They became mirror images of each other; his large blue eyes were as broad and open as he could manage, while her softer, earthier-toned eyes were closed as their lips were sealed together. It only lasted a few seconds, after which Ms. DiMartino withdrew to breathe and fan herself. But the sensation and taste of her lips stayed on Lincoln's mouth. He was completely stunned and shaky. When she swooped in again for another kiss with her student, the boy lost himself in a wave of her spicy aroma and velvety touch. The only motion he made was with his throat, when he felt, to his shock and absolute joy, her hand touch his hardness. She snaked her hand down into his pants, under the underwear, where her fingers soothingly ran over his burning shaft.

She gripped him, and he moaned. Her hand began to rub his cock, starting at the tip and rolling slowly downwards to the base and the sack of flesh by it. Every touch from her was heavenly, every pump felt like it could launch him into the sky. The faster she went, the closer he felt like he was about to… about to…

Then, she stopped as quickly as she started. Her hand fled his groin, and her lips left his alone.

The Hispanic woman winked at him. "Our first tutoring session starts tomorrow, after class. This classroom."

Then she gathered her things and left, leaving the young man alone with glassy eyes and malfunctioning mind.

"Ba… ba… ba… ba..."

The next day at school was, surprisingly, the same.

When she walked into class, Ms. DiMartino didn't give Lincoln any special look or anything of that nature. She smiled at the entire class, with the warm smile of a responsible and protective authority figure. "Good morning, class," she said to all, and her students responded. Well, most of them. A few of the boys were paralyzed by her beauty. Lincoln would have been one of them, were he not in an interesting state of mind.

He thought about it more at lunch, sitting by himself instead of with his friends. Technically speaking, shouldn't he be more… traumatized? Angry? Something like that, right? I mean, this was a teacher touching her student. Shouldn't he call the police? He felt like he should, but a lot held him back. Feelings of curiosity and want battered his poor brain all day. He had a harder time focusing in class than he usually did, but instead of keeping his eye on the hot teacher, it was kept on the clock.

That didn't stop him from getting hard when he and Ms. DiMartino locked eyes in the middle of an explanation of the Bill of Rights. The Bill of Rights is a very arousing subject unf

Finally, his torture ended, and the bell to end the day rang. As he stuffed all his worksheets into a folder, he smiled as he remembered how he had told his sisters to go home with Lori without waiting up for him. He felt a little guilty yesterday when he approached the car and found nine grumpy faces glaring at him. At least this time he could really take his time.

"What am I supposed to be taking my time doing, though?" he muttered. "Am I going to be doing my homework or… something else?"

More like someONE else, amirite?!

The boy grinned. Wordplay was fun.

Ms. DiMartino had stepped out of the room, but Lincoln rather obediently stayed put, like a guard dog protecting a plot of land. After the five minute mark, though, he began to wonder where she was. Feeling antsy, he opened his notebook and grabbed his finest black pen, and began sketching on the pages. He doodled the usual; ninjas, pirates, stickmen being eaten by dinosaurs. He did surprise himself when he drew what started as a simple anime eye (take one curve, take another curve, and color a little circle in the middle) slowly turned into a sketch of a face. Not just any face. A woman's face. A very familiar woman's face.

"I'm surprised you drew something like that so fast."

Lincoln jumped violently in his seat, his legs hitting the underside of his desk. He looked up, and there was the real life version of the face he was drawing. His teacher smiled down at him, and picked up the notebook to examine. "Impressive detail… the nose is a little big, but I suppose that's just my own self-image projecting."

She handed him the notebook, and for a moment, she seemed almost like a normal teacher. "Good work, Lincoln."

"Th-thanks. So, uh, Ms. DiMartino, why were you late?"

"I was fetching a very special book from my office. I don't keep it on me in class. Silly me."

She pulled up a chair, and sat right besides him. Her body heat was absorbed by his quivering skin, and he felt his blush swiftly return. It was worse when she pressed her shoulder against his frame, and plopped a giant history textbook on his desk. "Very well, let our tutoring begin."

"Wait… tutoring?"

"Yes, Lincoln. Isn't that the reason you're here?"

His eyebrow raised. He was confused. "Uh… yeah, but..."

The tips of her mouth twitched, as if she were holding back a playful smile. "I think, since this is our first session, I should try to grab your interest before we go any forward. So, I'll focus on something a little more interesting than the history of men and countries. Instead, we shall read about the history of heroes and monsters."

She gracefully flipped through the pages of the hefty tome, until she landed on the section she wanted.

"Mythology," she announced with gravitas.

"Mythology? Is this going to be on the test?"

"One question, as well as a bonus question I plan to add. Now, let me find the tale I'm looking for..."

Her eyes lit up when she found what she was looking for, and the older woman smacked her lips. "Ah yes. From the Arthurian Mythos. Camelot, the Green Knight… and the romantic tale of Lancelot and Guinevere. Did you know, Lincoln, that Guinevere was much older than Lancelot at the time their romance started? The age varies, but my favorite version in when she's in her twenties while Lancelot is… eleven."

She licked her lips, and Lincoln exhaled forcefully.

"This story is set in the castle, starting when Lancelot returns home from a great quest. He finds Guinevere waiting for him. He smiles when she lifts the covers and reveals her nudity. Her breasts are plump and motherly, nipples erect. She invites him over and takes his hand, and allows him to massage her bosom. He puts his lips to her chest, and begins to suckle at her teats as if he were her babe."

The story was being told in more detail than Lincoln expected. Perhaps it was his adolescent mind, but the fact that she was reciting erotica about medieval figures didn't bother him. It excited his imagination, as well as his dick. He could feel it hardening with every word that dripped from the storyteller's mouth. She glanced down once, and smiled, pleased with the effect she was having on her student.

"He tears off his armor, revealing a muscular body slick with sweat and oil. He has seen war with giants and Saxons, but now he wishes to taste war's opposite; love. His mouth falls to her dripping flower and begins to lick at the petals. She throws her head back and screams with delight, grabbing his head and stuffing it deeper and deeper into her cunt. Her scent fills his cut nostrils, and it inflames him forward."

"Ms. DiMartino, I don't..."

"Quiet, Lincoln, the best part is coming up," she whispered with excitement. It was only now that Lincoln noticed her other hand had reached down to her dress, and was poking at her pink panties. They were wet, and got wetter with every touch she gave herself.

"His fleshy sword is presented to her, and her legs spread wide open for the brave knight. He sticks himself inside her, his groans echoing throughout the chamber, and begins to rut her. He breeds her less like a noble lady, and more like a filthy bitch in heat. Her inner walls were itching for him, and now he scratches the itch away with his cock. His penis swells inside her, until he finally lets out the warrior's cry and fills her cavity with his seed."

She closed the book, and looked back to her shamefully aroused student. "Did you learn something now?"

"I learned that the teacher's textbooks really are different from our textbooks," he chuckled nervously.

"Oh… this isn't a textbook. It's a special adult book I bought for myself. It features many naughty stories from history. The harem of Ibn Sharif, the incest of the Ptolemaic dynasty, the horses of Catherine the Great… but this one is special. For us. It's a story that details a romantic affair unimpeded by... an age gap."

"Ms. DiMartino, I..."

If he was being completely honest, he was a little uncomfortable. She may have been one of the prettiest women he had ever put his eyes on, but she was still an authority figure coming on to one of her underlings. In the back of Lincoln's mind, this was a big no-no. Almost as much as incest, and Lincoln knew he would never do that!

Perhaps what kept him in his seat, what kept him in her presence, was that he wanted this as well. He had every right to get up and leave, but he didn't want to. He wanted the soft and pleasant-smelling breaths from her mouth to sweep across his face. He wanted the touch of her moisturized skin against his flesh. He wanted to know her, lust for her, love her. It was a powerful force beating in Lincoln's heart and mind.

There really weren't any words either could say. The mood had been set, and the sexually driven atmosphere circled them. "Lincoln, are you prepared for… advanced education?" the Latina asked in a voice as lustful as it was musical.

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah, I think I am."

"Good boy. You won't be needing your pants anymore."

He blushed, but nodded. She stood up and gave the boy his space as he reached to the hem of his blue jeans and began to pull them down. Well, he struggled to, until he remembered he forgot to undo the button and zipper. "Sorry, got a little excited," he laughed awkwardly, undoing his restraints and finally pulling his pants down past his knees and feet. He was left sitting in his bright red boxers, but she insisted that even those had to go. He pulled them down and tossed them away, leaving his bottom completely exposed to the chair and his erection exposed to her hungry eyes.

She measured him. She wasn't expecting some amazing size like nine inches (most adults don't even have that, and she was pretty sure nine inches would be terrible for women) but for a growing teen, he had a decent size on him. Somewhere above four, but below five.

And the smell… it was so musky~

She touched her own sex through her panties, and felt the scorching feeling on her hand even through the cloth. "It's time I unleashed mine," she said. She pressed her butt to a desk and spread her legs for Lincoln's eyes to marvel at. But rather than remove her dress, her hands went directly to the cloth below, and she peeled it down her legs. Her clear nectar dripped down her legs, almost as if they were following her underwear. She finally kicked it off with her high heels, and she reached towards her shirt. Pulling her arms back out of the sleeves, she pulled the shirt downwards, keeping the entire thing wrapped around her lean stomach while exposing her bust to the young man. "Do you like what you see, Lincoln?" she purred.

"I… If this were an anime, my nose would be bleeding," he said. Fucking dork.

She pinched her nipples, watching as they slowly hardened. The arousal was getting to be unbearable for the two.

"Ms. Di… can I ask you something?" he suddenly asked.

"You just did," she responded like any snarky teacher would, "but go on."

"It's just… I'm about to sound like a real gushy loser here, but you're really beautiful. One of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. You could have any guy in the world. Any guy in Royal Woods. There are a lot of people more handsome and more… aged than me. So why me of all people?"

She blushed, touched that he would care. It seemed that he was more than just a randy student at the back of the class. He was more empathetic. It was as sweet as it was faggy.

"Because you're cute," she said with a smile, pinching his spotted cheek.

She then lay down on the table, her head hanging awkwardly from it. She knew, though, it would lead to a rush when he was done. "Now, Lincoln, I am your instructor, so listen to me. Listen to what I tell you to do. I'll guide us through our afterschool study session."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now touch my chest."

Lincoln finally stood and approached her. His hands moved to the orbs on her chest, and with a breath to soothe himself, he reached and touched her, keeping her hardened nipple in his palm. He began to play with it, rolling his hand around as if he were giving her a massage. He fumbled at first, his hand sometimes skirting off to the side, and he would give a shy "Sorry," every time. Within minutes, though, he was getting more expert with her, and the teacher found herself groaning.

"That's it, Lincoln. Good boy."

Her head titled to the door of the classroom. It was sealed and locked shut, but there was always the risk of someone from the outside getting nosy. When she was sure there were no shadows menacingly hovering outside, she allowed herself to groan with force and pleasure. "Now, Lincoln, kiss me."

Nothing more needed to be said as he obeyed her order. He leaned down and took her mouth to claim it with his lips, tasting what he had yesterday. Her hands reached to his head and began combing the disorderly white hair gently, while a fierce battle of the tongues was fought below.

He let go of her chest, much to her annoyance, but then reached to wrap his right hand around the back of her neck with his left had traveled underneath her skirt to touch the exposed vagina of his teacher. It was wet and shlicky, but Lincoln's focus was less on that and more on the embrace of their mouths. To Ms. DiMartino, his eager yet rushed kisses reminded her of the first time she ever kissed a boy. He was the same age as Lincoln, though at the time, so was she. He was a handsome pubescent boy, and his kisses then were the same as Lincoln's now; eager yet rushed.

It's almost nostalgic.

A their tongues continued to intertwine, his hands shifted their position again. One hand returned to attacking her nipples, which were now as erect as could possibly be, so sharp that they could possibly slice the air swirling around them in given the chance. His other hand was less inclined to poke at the sanctuary hidden between her legs and more inclined to stroke and rub it. Giggling to herself, she spread her legs so he could get two fingers to go just a little deeper into her wet womanhood. "Lincoln, penetrate me," her stern voice commanded. His fingers wiggled past the lips of the young woman's sex, and poked into the throbbing walls within. She moaned loudly, and cussed in Spanish. His fingers felt like they were performing a sensual dance inside her pussy-gato and her juices started to flow.

What followed was something that surprised the woman. Without a single order from her, Lincoln left her mouth and dipped his head under her dress. He lifted her hips slightly, bringing her slit up to his mouth and sucked the wetness of her crotch. "Oh my… Lincoln!" she cried out.

"Am I hurting you, Ms. DiMartino?"

"You're hurting me by stopping. Please, keep going, I beg you."

So much for giving orders. Guess that whole thing about teachers learning from students works in this context… kinda…

With his lips still pressed firmly to her sex, his tongue poked past the wall of teeth and reached to touch her delicate opening. Ms. DiMartino was about to issue another of her foreboding commands until she felt his tongue take a swift swipe at her womanhood. The feeling of the rough taste buds over her sensitivity forced her to let out a loud moan of pleasure. Lincoln smacked his lips lightly as his tongue retreaded inside them; the taste of the older woman was new to him. It was fleshy and good, with an odd mix of sweet and salty and something else he couldn't really identify. But it only made him want to try more of it.

He unleashed his wet organ again, lapping at her with force. When he rolled over her quivering clit, the sheer raw bliss made Ms. DiMartino moan again. "Dios mio," she gasped. Lincoln was eating her out like she was a rich tropical fruit, and Ms. DiMartino loved every second of it. Every lash, whip, touch and scrape against her womanhood drove her further and further into ecstasy. She wiggled and moved her hips around his head, and pushed herself into an incline for his mouth to feast on her. He began to gentle suck at her clit, at which pointed she kicked off her shoes to more easily curl her toes in her dark purple - almost black - socks.

"Keep licking, keep licking," she ordered breathlessly. She could feel something building up inside, and Lincoln could tell from the way her walls were throbbing around his tongue.

Which was why, after another quick lick, Lincoln got back up on his feet and licked his mouth clean of her juices which stained it. The display aroused her, by his actions annoyed her. "Lincoln, I told you to keep licking," she said.

"I know. Consider it payback for yesterday," he grinned.

"Do you think it's appropriate for you to get payback on a teacher?"

"Is anything we're doing appropriate?"

Good point.

His hand gripped his member firmly and tightly. He used his other hand to grab on to her tan hip, positioning himself right in front of her gaping hole. The white haired boy hissed through his teeth as he touched himself at the sight of his blushing, sweating, eager teacher, just waiting for him to have her. It was a boyish fantasy he never thought would be fulfilled outside of the world of daydreams.

"I still can't believe I'm about to do this," Lincoln said.

"Believe it. Believe me, this is what everything we've done together has been leading up to," she said to him, with a smile etched on her glossy lips.

He pumped himself a few times, and ran his cock over her clothed stomach to really ensure his hardness. Then, hands firmly sealed on her hips, he slammed himself inside. Ms. DiMartino shot back with a gasp and a scream at the force his boner impaled her with.

He began his slow dance to make love to the older woman. His hips jerk back awkwardly at first, and his dick flies out. Lincoln growled, but his teacher gave him an encouraging smile to just try again. So he does, opening her slit with his fingers and rubbing her flesh carefully. "Alright, second time's the charm," he grumbled as his wood slides in again. He groaned loudly as his meat fills her. "Ms. Di," he moaned, encouraging the woman to reach up and touch his face.

"You're doing a good job."

That was the motivational push he needed. He jerked his hip forward and his dick scratched the pink walls of her gaping womanhood. His cock wedged inside her, and he kept it in its place as he panted softly. He began to rock his hips, his fleshy tool pulsating inside her and swelling her walls wider. It had been so long since she had last touched herself, so the feeling of finally feeling another person inside her was amazing.

The desk shook underneath her with every motion from Lincoln. His head bowed as he began rutting into her as hard as he could, his dick sheathing and unsheathing itself inside her. Each time he pulled out and dug back in, the juices both of them produced began to mix together into a thick new solution, which lubed Lincoln's way as his crown burrowed deeper and deeper into her insides. His groin battered against her crotch, leaving her smooth brown skin a sore red. She licked her lips and lifted her head slightly, so that she could look into his eyes as he fucked her with everything he had.

"A week ago, you would've looked away in fear if I looked you in the eyes," she told him.

"Well not anymore," he said. Not the most intelligent response, but he was thinking with his dick now, not his brain.

Her chest bounced and jiggled with every thrust into her. The Latina reached to her impressive breasts and started to cup and stroke them, keeping them in place while adding to her own pleasure. When she felt his shaft rub her special spot, she jerked and squeezed her tit as hard as she could, producing drops of lactation, much to her surprise.

"Lincoln, Lincoln, Lincoln," she whispered under her breath as the boy rammed harder and harder into her. The building orgasm from before had manifested itself again, and she could feel it slowly dripping from her. Every push from him sent her into a new wave of pleasure.

Finally, she could take it no more. Her white teeth bit down sharply on her bottom lip as she reached her climax. Bursts of sex juices flew out of her cunt, and the woman screamed loudly as Lincoln refused to let up, even as she was finishing. The wetness only encouraged him more, and his pace quickened, his hips becoming a blur as he rammed himself as hard as he could inside her. Within seconds, Lincoln cried out as he climaxed as well. A rush of electrifying energy bolted through their bodies as Lincoln pulled out at the last second and came on her chest. Ribbons of hot spum dripped on to her nipples, and Ms. DiMartino moaned at the motion.

Finally, he fell back into a chair, sweating and panting. The teacher sat up as well, naked butt still rubbing against the wood of the desk, as she began painting her chest with the semen her student had produced. Her long nail swirled in the pool of white, and she smiled at him. "This is an impressive amount," she complimented.

"Th-thanks."

She smirked and stood, walking over to his chair. She sat on her Caucasian student's lap, straddling him, and even though his dick was deflating, she still reached for it and stuffed it inside her. A pained yet pleased moan fluttered from his lips as she whispered softly "So, you might be wondering how this is supposed to help you study..."

He wasn't really, but okay.

"… let's just say… if you keep up your good grades, and do well on the next test..."

She jerked forward, rubbing her sex against his cock.

"… there's more where that came from~"

She stood up and winked at him, like a minx, and went to the front of the class for some tissues. Her sex juices dribbled down her tall legs with every step, until she reached her desk and grabbed some tissues. She pulled her shirt back up after carefully dabbing the tissues on her breast, and left the room to clean herself.

Lincoln was left alone in his chair, the cold air of the AC blowing on his naked flesh. But that didn't matter to him, because there was only one thing on his mind.

"Ba… ba… ba… ba..."

In the following weeks, Lincoln worked as hard as he could to get the best grades he could. He read his textbooks cover to back, he worked on complex math equations without a calculator, and he spent much more time with Lisa studying… well, everything. Soon, he was achieving better grades than anyone else in his class. Granted, it wasn't that hard to do better than someone like Papa Wheelie, but Clyde and Girl Jordan were challenges to surpass. And it was all thanks to his succubus of a teacher, Ms. DiMartino.

They maintained sexual relations, often as a reward for Lincoln's good behavior or high academic achieving. They began experimenting as well with positions. 69ing was an easy start, but then it turned into some Kama Sutra stuff.

There was even a time where she pegged him. That was something he never wanted to do again…

Of course, things change. Their relationship was unstable, and both Lincoln and Ms. DiMartino knew it. She was his teacher, and he was her pupil. She was a fully developed and gorgeous woman, while he was a developing boy coming into his own and trying to find where he stood in the world. Every orgasm they shared was bittersweet; it felt good now, it was nice to have someone with them now, but how long until the walls came crashing down? And would their relationship be strong enough to stand when they did? Was it just lust and a need for release that brought them together time and time again, or was it something akin to love?

These were all hypothetical questions, of course, that they decided to let their future selves figure out. But the future doesn't stay the future forever. One day, it becomes the present.

And that one day was the day their midterm grades were announced.

One of Lincoln's classmates, a grimy redheaded boy named Chandler, had forgotten his backpack in Ms. DiMartino's class. Normally, he would've left it behind (even if it was stolen, he could easily buy new textbooks and notebooks) but he had left his phone in the front pocket. He trudged down the hall to the Hispanic teacher's room, grumbling to himself the entire time. "How could I forget my damn phone? For fuck's sake, that thing is basically my identity!"

When he turned the corner and spied her classroom, the first suspicious thing he noticed was that the door was slightly ajar. That was weird, because he was pretty sure doors were supposed to be locked afterschool.

Then he heard the sounds. The wet slapping of meat and the groans flying through the air.

"What the…?"

He peaked in carefully through the crack in the door, and his eye widened at what he saw.

Ms. DiMartino was kneeling on the ground, her mouth wrapped around Lincoln's cock. The young boy's face was screwed in pleasure as she sucked on him, licked him, bobbed her head on his length and occasionally spat him out to masturbate him. Her technique was sloppy and effective, as it only took a few more seconds for Lincoln to groan "Ms. Di, I'm about to-" before choking on his words as he came inside her mouth. She drank his cum like it was refreshing OJ from a straw, then turned her head towards the door.

"What's wrong?" Lincoln asked.

"Nothing. Must have been my imagination," she said after a few seconds of withholding judgment.

By then Chandler had run off, leaving his bag and phone behind without a care. He rushed out of the school, pumping his legs and panting heavily, as he found a phone booth on the street. He reached into his pocket for coins, and when he found them he plugged them into the machine and dialed three numbers…

When Ms. DiMartino and Lincoln left the building a little while later, they were greeted by two cops, both looking surely and disgusted. One of them had a long cigarette in his mouth, and he took a puff of it before tossing it in the teacher's direction. "Mrs. DiMartino?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Ms. Not Mrs."

"Whatever. You're under arrest."

"Wh-what? Why?"

She knew why, of course. She knew the reason was the young man standing by her side, looking as shook and scared as she did. Her tone frightened him. She was a self-confident woman, and it played in her tone, but now her voice was filled with fright, and warbled with terror and suspicion.

"Given what the kid who called us said, it's probably because of this prick right here," the other cop growled.

"Easy, buddy, he's the victim," his partner chastised.

"I'm not a victim! She didn't r-rape me or anything. I… You know what, I was the one who raped he-"

"LINCOLN!"

She stopped him before he could tell the lie that could possibly incriminate him. She looked down at him, her teeth grit and her eyes begging him not to finish his statement. I was the one who started this, they told him, so don't throw away your future for me. I'll take the fall. Forget about me.

"I-It's true," she said in a voice filled with shame and defeat. She hung her head, and her fists balled up in anger at getting exposed. "I, as a grown woman, took this student of mine and used him f-for nothing more than my own pleasure."

"Surprised it's always the hot ones," the first cop sighed, before reaching down to his belt for cuffs. "Alright, Mrs. DiMartino, you're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say..."

They led her to their car with her arms pinned painfully behind her back. She frowned in pain as the younger cop seemed to take an odd enjoyment in twisting her hand. Lincoln watched with in frightful breath as the car door closed behind her. She looked at him one last time, their eyes connecting for a sparkling second…

And then she was gone.

And then Lincoln was alone.

Lincoln never found out who made the call, or how they found out. He honestly didn't care. What he did care was that because of him, his sweet, kind, caring, wonderful, amazing teacher was going to get screwed over by the legal system. Stories broke out of Lincoln as a victim of assault, and his family was crackling with righteous fury. They were angry that someone had taken advantage of their son/brother, and they demanded justice.

Perhaps that's why she was sentenced to twenty years with high bail.

Lincoln learned that when one day, his sister Lisa walked in to his room. The lights were cut and the curtains drawn, so the entire room felt shadowy and dusky. The sides of the toddler's mouth twitched in a frown, and she let out a soft sigh. "I just thought I'd let you know that your assaulter has been jailed. Twenty years. Two hundred and forty months. One hundred seventy five thousand and two hundred hours."

Lincoln looked up from his video game and nodded somberly. "Okay," he rasped.

Lisa felt like she should leave, but another part of her told her to stay. Ever since the arrest, Lincoln had been acting out more. He was more standoffish and closed off, both emotionally and physically. This wasn't completely uncommon behavior amongst victims of statutory assault, but Lisa sensed that wasn't the reason. Guess there was no way out of it… she was going to talk to him.

"I… Lincoln, can I ask you something? And please don't be offended by my questioning."

"Sure. Ask away."

"Was it… was your relationship with your teacher truly non-consensual?"

"No. It wasn't."

"I figured," Lisa sighed. "Well, I can't condone her actions either way. Under the law of this land, a minor cannot give consent. We cannot buy alcohol, take out loans, bail people out of jail, or have sexual relations with someone so far outside of out age group."

"Gah, I know already!"

"Let me finish. As I was saying, while I personally think what she did was wrong, it's clearly affecting you in ways that I hate seeing. So, I think I've come up with a plan to help you."

Lincoln put down the game console, eyes sparkling with interest. "Go on, Lise."

The scientist coughed. "I don't know if you're up to par with it, though. It involves patience, and more importantly, hard work while you're being patient. Are you up for that?"

"Yes. Anything. I can't just leave her in jail."

"Oh, but you will. For a while at least. But with any luck you can cut down her sentence."

"How?"

"It's pretty easy, actually. Here's what you need to do..."

She brought him close, grabbing his head and whispered softly into his ear. By the time she let go, his mouth was open in an 'o' of surprise. But then, to her surprise, he quickly revealed a toothy smile. And then, to her absolute confusement… he laughed. Not a normal laugh, either. It was a manic laughter, almost insane in its height and intensity.

"Oh, Lisa," he brayed. "You have no idea how relevant that is."

Seven slow years passed. Throughout those seven years, Ms. DiMartino went through a lot. She had heard stories that people convicted of sexual crimes are treated the worst in prison, and she unfortunately had the bruises to prove it. She spent most of her time either reading whatever she could get her hands on, and thinking. She thought about a lot. She thought about her family, her shame, her passions, her drives… and most of all, she thought about her love.

Lincoln was on her mind many times a day.

Guess our relationship wasn't strong enough to protect us.

She knew she had been sentenced to twenty years, which was why it was a shock when, in the middle of her seventh year in prison, she was set free.

"Wait, what?" she exclaimed as her possessions were returned to her.

"Someone paid your bail," explained the fat woman behind the counter. "You're free to go."

"Someone paid my bail? Wh-who?"

The fat woman shrugged, and watched the young woman as she left. Despite her long time in jail, her figure hadn't changed much, and she was almost as attractive as she was when she first entered. Hell, she really pulled that orange jumpsuit look off. The fat woman nodded and smiled as she stared at the educator's butt. "I would've paid your bail for a peak at those cheeks," she grinned.

When Ms. DiMartino was led to the person that had bailed her out, it took her a moment to recognize him. He seemed… a little familiar. He was a young gringo with a slightly chipped tooth and the faintest hint of freckles on his face, dressed in a reddish letterman jacket. It wasn't until she looked at his hair that she gasped with shock.

"L-Lincoln?"

"Hey, Ms. Di," he greeted, opening his arms up for her. The two quickly hugged, and the woman looked at him with wild eyes.

"H-How?"

"I had to wait," he said. "I had to wait until I was eighteen to bail you out. And during that time, I knew I had to save up a lot of money to afford it. So I… well, you'll be proud of me for this… I studied a lot. I studied hard in high school, and got a nice internship that became a high-paying part-time job. I turned eighteen last week, so I finally came here to let you out."

"But why?"

"Because what me and you had wasn't just mindless sex to get me to do better on my exams. What we had was… well, what I had for you was love. I love you, Ms. DiMartino."

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and a soft choke escaped her.

"I… I love you too, Lincoln."

They hugged again, and this time it was accompanied by a kiss, melding their faces together in a serene display of affection. He wanted to take her back home, but she insisted on something else. Something entirely different.

They stopped at a motel. She needed to give him a late birthday gift~

Just a few more notes down here; the second part of this story (after the lemon) was something I wasn't really sure was a good idea, but I ended up doing it because I just really wanted to for some reason. And before anyone says that it has a toxic moral or whatever, I'm not preaching anything. I'm just transcribing a story. If you think the relationship here is unhealthy or beautiful or toxic or tragic, that's up to you.

Also, I wrote this whole thing in one day. It's part of the reason why I released this as a one-shot instead of a three-shot story like I planned. Not that that's super relevant. I'm just noting this because I want to brag that I wrote 8.5k words in a single day.