CHAPTER 2: THE TEACHER

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...

Majority voted teacher/student, so...voila!

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Grimmjow sat back in his big, comfy, black leather desk chair and removed his reading glasses. After setting the dark blue, plastic, rectangular frames on his desk, he rubbed his tired eyes. It had been a long day at the office. One of the company's most prominent clients' deadline was approaching and things were beyond hectic.

He could go for a really nice massage at the moment.

Maybe, when he got home, he could persuade his boyfriend to loosen the knots of tension littering his back and shoulders; Ichigo was damn near a pro at massaging and making Grimmjow's body relax. Added to that, the thought of arriving home and finding Ichigo wearing something scandalous, looking good enough to eat again, had his mouth nearly watering.

Grimmjow didn't know what he'd done to warrant such sudden extra special treatment from his orange-haired lover, but he wanted to find out so he could do it again. That night had been a memorable one. After fucking Ichigo's brains out in the kitchen, they had proceeded to the bedroom for a much anticipated round two, where he'd slowed things down and made sure Ichigo had known he was exceedingly appreciative.

Fuck.

Now, he was horny.

Sighing, he tapped a button on his office phone, activating the intercom. A soft beep echoed throughout the otherwise silent office, bouncing off the light gray walls and seeping into the plush, navy-hued carpet.

"Yes, Grimmjow-san?" his secretary's perky voice chirped from the speaker.

"Inoue, do I have anymore meetings today?"

There was a brief pause and some rustling before Inoue came back on the line. "No, sir. You're free for the evening."

Grimmjow sighed in relief. "Good. You can close up; I'm going home."

"Yes, sir."

Grimmjow ended the connection, glad to be done with his day. He was hungry, he was tired and he was more than ready to spend the rest of the evening with his boyfriend. As he gathered his briefcase and a few important documents, he glanced at the clock on the wall, grimacing at the time. 7:54 pm.

Ichigo was gonna kill him.

He flipped the light switch as he approached his office door, throwing the heavy, wooden panel open and walking briskly past his flustered secretary, giving her a curt, "Night," as he made his way to the elevators.

"G-good night, Grimmjow-san," she called.

He continued to the elevators, hating the fact that most of the women in the building considered him "the most eligible bachelor", his secretary included. As if the fact that he was gay and in a relationship held no meaning.

Women.

He stabbed the call button and tapped a foot impatiently as he waited for the elevator to ascend. The light on the panel overhead illuminated the twenty-first floor, meaning there were three left before it reached him.

It must have already been on its way up.

Don't let haters get me off my grind

Keep my head up, I know I'll be fine

Keep fighting until I get there

And I'm down and I feel like giving up

I be whippin'

I WHIP MY HAIR BACK AND FORTH

I WHIP MY HAIR BACK AND FORTH

Grimmjow jumped drastically and looked around in horror for the offensive music, wondering where the hell it was coming from. Imagine his dismay to find that the hair-swinging anthem was coming from his very own pocket.

"What the fuck?" he grumbled, fishing in his navy slacks pocket for his cell phone. Once he retrieved the noisy device, one glance at the readout explained exactly why Willow Smith was whipping her hair back and forth on his phone. "Ichigo," he growled under his breath. He tapped the screen beneath the smiling face of his boyfriend and brought the phone to his ear. "Ya wanna tell me why this kid is singin' on my phone, babe?" he immediately asked, voice low and threatening.

There was a short silence before Ichigo chuckled softly, his deep voice still managing to raise the hairs on the back of Grimmjow's neck. "I thought you liked Willow," the orange-haired man replied.

Grimmjow scowled, trying to fight the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Whatever. That's yer thing, ya know that. What's for dinner?" he asked, stepping into the empty elevator and pressing the button for the parking garage.

"Hmm...me."

Grimmjow froze in the middle of cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder and shifting his briefcase to his left hand.

What?

"Say that again?" he asked, heart rate picking up.

"You heard me, Grimm. Tonight, I'm on the menu."

Grimmjow paused, one thought coming to mind. "Ya gonna wear those sexy lil' panties again?" he asked quietly, trying not to betray his excitement.

Ichigo laughed. "No! That would be boring, ne?"

Grimmjow frowned, disagreeing completely. "Ya got somethin' else in mind then?"

"You could say that. When're you coming home?"

"Now."

Ichigo laughed again, this time more loudly. "Fucking pervert."

"Love ya, too, Ichi," Grimmjow said, grinning wolfishly.

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the dimly lit parking garage, the air tinged with a slight chill from the underground and cement. Grimmjow stepped out of the metal pulley and made his way to his car, his hand digging in his slacks pocket for his key.

"Oh, and Grimm?" Ichigo started. Grimmjow grunted in response, mind on locating his car key. "You have your briefcase and glasses right?"

Grimmjow scowled in confusion at the random question. "I got my briefcase, but I don't remember whether I grabbed my glasses er not. I got an extra pair in the office at the house anyway. Why?" he inquired curiously, finally making it to his 2011 Cadillac CTS and unlocking it with the keypad.

He could hear the smug grin in Ichigo's voice when he said, "Just asking. Hurry home, Grimm."

With that, the connection was ended and Grimmjow was left smiling idiotically at nothing in particular.

What was Ichigo up to, now?

XxxxxxX

"Ichi, I'm home!" he called upon entering the two-bedroom apartment he shared with the orange-haired man.

Silence followed his declaration, baffling him. Grimmjow followed his nose to the kitchen, where a few dishes were set on the counter, covered with plastic wrap. His mouth wanted to water at the smell of curry and rice, but he was more intent on finding his missing lover.

Where the hell was he?

Grimmjow tromped to their bedroom and pushed the door open, wondering if and hoping Ichigo was on the other side, presenting himself in another scandalous little outfit that Grimmjow would savor divesting him of. Alas, as he swung the door open, he was disappointed to find Ichigo still missing.

What the hell?

Why would Ichigo get him all worked up and excited like that, only to disappear by the time he got home?

Grimmjow growled under his breath and went to the second bedroom that he'd transformed into an office, set on dropping off his briefcase and heading to the kitchen to eat. What he saw on the other side of the office door made him pull up short, eyebrows plastering themselves to the ceiling.

Ichigo was casually perched against the edge of the large mahogany desk, dressed in a plain white, short-sleeved, button-up shirt and light gray slacks. A matching gray tie hung loosely around the unbuttoned collar of the shirt and black leather shoes finished the outfit, leaving Grimmjow completely confused.

This certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting after their conversation on the phone.

"Uh..." he started stupidly.

Ichigo glanced up and gave him a sideways smirk, cocoa brown eyes gleaming devilishly. He slowly straightened to his full height, stepping away from the desk and standing a few feet away. "Hey, sensei. Kinda late, aren't ya?" he asked coyly.

Sensei?

What the fu-

Oh.

Grimmjow almost grinned, but decided against it at the last second, getting into character. Keeping a stony face, he sauntered into the olive green room, his footsteps muffled by the beige carpet on the floor.

Ichigo had placed one of the wooden chairs from the kitchen in front of the desk, so Grimmjow wordlessly pointed at it and took a seat in his own black cushioned seat behind the desk. Ichigo obliged, small smirk still gracing his features.

"Why're ya in my office again, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow asked curtly, glaring down his nose at his boyfriend/student.

Ichigo shrugged and glanced down at his blunt fingernails. "Guess I can't stay outta trouble, sensei."

Grimmjow wanted to grin so badly; he kept wondering if Ichigo was going to pull one of those cheesy porno lines like, "I've been a bad boy, sensei. Aren't you gonna punish me?" Inwardly cackling, Grimmjow set his briefcase on the desk and opened it. Unfortunately, he'd left his reading glasses at work, but fortunately, he had another pair in the desk drawer.

Always good to be prepared.

He slid open the drawer and retrieved the black, plastic, rectangular frames, easing them onto his face before gazing up at Ichigo. The look Ichigo was spearing him with, was - for lack of a better word - lascivious. Lecherous. Lusty.

All that good shit.

Ichigo licked his lips as he continued staring, his darkened brown eyes alternating between Grimmjow's eyes and mouth. Grimmjow loosened his own navy blue tie and undid the first three buttons of his white dress shirt.

He was getting hot being on the receiving end of those scorching looks Ichigo was sending his way.

He cleared his throat and licked his lips, wetting them and relieving them of their previous dryness. "Dontcha got homework er somethin' ya could do? 'Stead a'sittin' there gawkin' at me all day," he grunted.

Ichigo gave a catty smirk and sat back in his seat. "Maybe I like gawkin' at you, sensei," he said lowly.

Grimmjow fought his smile and averted his eyes. "Shut up, Kurosaki. Get ta work."

Ichigo snorted and climbed to his feet. "Wrong answer, sensei."

Grimmjow watched avidly as Ichigo made his way around the desk and stood right behind him. "What're ya doin'?"

"You look tense, sensei. Mind if I give you a massage?" Ichigo asked and Grimmjow almost swallowed his tongue in excitement.

He'd been looking forward to this all day.

But...if he remained in character, shouldn't he say no? Ichigo was supposed to be a minor right? Or was this college?

Grimmjow sighed, tempted to rub his eyes. This was too confusing and frustrating. Role playing shouldn't be this fucking difficult. Just as he started to voice that opinion, Ichigo ran his slightly roughened hands along the base of his neck, the pads of his thumbs pressing into the bunched muscles.

Grimmjow groaned involuntarily and loudly. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he hung his head, thoroughly prepared to enjoy his massage.

Supposed minor or not.

Ichigo kneaded his shoulders like a mound of dough, turning him into a pile of play-doh. Kami, he was about to start drooling any minute now. When Ichigo made his way down his back and those magical thumbs worked firm circles into its base, he moaned almost wantonly, his body melting like soft-serve ice cream.

Ichigo dropped a tender kiss on the nape of his neck and hummed. "You're a sucky teacher, ya know that?" he murmured.

Grimmjow grinned through the bone-melting pleasure he was experiencing and shook his head. Hating to stop what his younger lover was doing, he swiveled the seat around to face him. Ichigo stood back, wearing an impish smile. "I don' give a fuck."

Ichigo tipped his head back, a rich, rolling laugh booming in the quiet room. Sobering, he turned those enchanting henna-hued eyes on him. "Grimm, you big idiot," he said warmly.

Grimmjow pulled Ichigo into his lap and nuzzled the crook of his neck. "But ya love me. Idiot an' all."

Long fingers swept through his bangs and massaged his scalp gently. "Yeah, I do," Ichigo said quietly, his tone suddenly serious. "I really do."

Grimmjow felt warmth radiating in his gut at the sappy sentiment; it always did something to him, even after all this time. He still wondered how he'd gained the love and trust of someone as unique and all-together perfect as Ichigo. "I know, babe," he murmured. "I know."

Ichigo removed Grimmjow's glasses, setting them back in the desk drawer before placing one of those long fingers under his chin and tilting it up. "Kiss me, sensei," he whispered.

Grimmjow smirked before he gripped Ichigo's slim hips and slanted his mouth over Ichigo's soft, yet firm lips. Ichigo sighed and returned the gesture, waiting only a second or two before running his slick tongue across Grimmjow's bottom lip. Grimmjow wasted no time opening his mouth and capturing that tongue, sucking on it strongly and devouring the taste that belonged only to Ichigo.

The added flavor of some type of fruit juice was merely a bonus.

Grimmjow's hands grew minds of their own as they moved to the waistband of Ichigo's gray slacks and hurriedly began unbuckling the black, leather belt. Metal clinked as the clasp was undone and brushed aside. The button holding the pants together was popped open and the zipper rasped as it too was relieved of its task in keeping Ichigo's pants on his hips.

Ichigo jerked slightly and hissed as Grimmjow palmed his genitals through the cotton material of his boxers. "Hnn," he moaned quietly.

Grimmjow deepened their kiss, angling his head to the side for better access as he drove his tongue into Ichigo's mouth repeatedly. That slow simmer had already begun in his pelvis and was quickly spreading to his stomach and lower extremities. He caressed the roof of Ichigo's mouth with his tongue, dipping it into all the tiny spaces not even food managed to find.

Ichigo was already hard.

Grimmjow pulled back from the drugging kiss and lifted the smaller man onto the desk, standing as he did so. Ichigo's eyes were at half-mast as he lazily considered him, waiting for him to make the next move, which Grimmjow had no problem doing. He yanked at the annoying pants Ichigo wore and tugged them down and over those slender hips, slowly revealing tanned and toned legs.

When the pants caught around Ichigo's ankles and the shoes he still wore, Grimmjow sucked his teeth and went about impatiently tearing them off. As soon as they hit the floor, he snatched away the pants and growled at the tent being pitched in Ichigo's boxers.

He loved his boyfriend's dick.

It curved against his belly and nestled in a patch of bright orange hair that irrevocably proved that the hair on his head was au naturale. Grimmjow moved between Ichigo's legs, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his green underwear. "Gonna make ya keep the neighbors up tanight, Ichi," he mumbled.

Ichigo moaned and gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him close for another kiss. Tongues played for a moment before Ichigo retreated, panting slightly. "Good. Been thinkin' 'bout you fucking me hard all day," he growled and heat shot like a trained arrow straight to Grimmjow's dick.

"Shit."

Ichigo leaned back on his hands and lifted his hips, encouraging Grimmjow to rid him of the cumbersome boxers and presto, two tugs and the green fabric lay in a heap on the floor along with Ichigo's pants.

"Take that shirt off, Kurosaki," Grimmjow grunted, slipping back into their role playing.

Ichigo bit his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes seductively. "Yes, sensei," he purred, his fingers deftly undoing his tie and the buttons to his shirt. Once that was out of the way, Grimmjow took over and rubbed his hands over Ichigo's warm and solid chest, flicking his thumbs over tightened, tawny buds. Ichigo threw his head back and groaned deeply, the sound seeming to come from his stomach.

Grimmjow stepped back and took in the glorious sight of Ichigo, sitting naked and passionate on his desk. Licking his lips, he locked eyes with his boyfriend. "Ya wanna take my clothes off, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo nodded emphatically and slid off the desk, his erection stiff and pointing. "Yes, sensei," he repeated.

Grimmjow could get used to that.

Ichigo sidled over to him, his hands immediately going for Grimmjow's tie. Their eyes met and held as the shorter male slowly loosened Grimmjow's tie and undid the buttons of his shirt, hips rotating in languid circles against Grimmjow's pelvis. Anticipation set a fire in his blood and danced gleefully around the flames as it casually tossed lighter fluid into the raging inferno.

Ichigo just didn't know.

Grimmjow was gonna make him speak a language that didn't even exist tonight.

Shirt now a pile added to the steadily growing mound of clothes on the floor, Ichigo ran those miraculous hands over Grimmjow's chest, a soft hum emanating from the back of his throat as he teased Grimmjow's nipples to hardness. Ichigo traversed Grimmjow's torso leisurely, the word "urgent" not in his vocabulary at the minute. He leaned forward and placed feather-soft kisses along the ridges of Grimmjow's abdomen, his hands still moving and going for the waistband of Grimmjow's pants.

The sound of metal clinking again sounded in the silent room, followed by the familiar rasping of a zipper. Ichigo gave him a brief smile that made his chest tighten and his heart race. Grimmjow quickly kicked out of his shoes and allowed Ichigo to lower his pants, inch by inch, until they fell, along with his black boxer briefs, down to the floor around his ankles. He didn't hesitate to step out of the material pooled at his feet and the second he did, his and Ichigo's positions were reversed.

Grimmjow leaned against the edge of his desk, watching his orange-haired boyfriend lower himself to his knees with a sly smirk, one of his hands gripping the base of Grimmjow's length.

A teasing tongue flicked at the head of his member before the entire glans was suddenly engulfed in searing, wet heat. Grimmjow exhaled noisily and placed a hand on Ichigo's head, his fingers sifting through the short, spiky strands.

Kami, Ichigo's mouth was golden.

Ichigo slid his mouth further down Grimmjow's shaft, lips tightening and cheeks hollowing as he sucked deeply and strongly. Grimmjow rolled his eyes shut and tilted his head back.

"Fuck yeah," he breathed. "Suck faster." Ichigo moaned faintly, but began bobbing his head rapidly, nose meeting curly, dark blue pubic hair as he steadied himself by gripping one of Grimmjow's cheeks and using his free hand to massage and roll Grimmjow's testicles. "Ungh, shit!"

Wet and noisy, Ichigo's sucking had Grimmjow's toes curling into the plush carpet. Pulling back shortly, Ichigo glanced up at him with hooded bronze-toned eyes and used the tip of his long, pink tongue to run over the slit of the head of his unyielding length. "Like that, sensei?" he crooned and the vibration from his deep voice made Grimmjow shudder.

"Mmhmm. Keep goin', Kurosaki. I ain' tell ya ta stop yet."

Ichigo grinned coquettishly and sucked him down like a carnal lollipop. He alternated between sucking the entire length and licking the underside of Grimmjow's dick, coating it with saliva as he varied his pace. Grimmjow tightened his grip in Ichigo's hair, grunting and thrusting his hips in time with the salacious sucks Ichigo performed.

Feeling himself getting dangerously close to coming, he pulled out of Ichigo's furnace of a mouth, rubbing himself lazily across the other man's parted lips before he hauled Ichigo to his feet. He aggressively brought their mouths together, where he proceeded to try and taste Ichigo's tonsils. Ichigo moaned and wrapped his muscularly lean arms around Grimmjow's neck, his right leg curving around Grimmjow's left calf.

"Sensei, please!" Ichigo begged.

"Please what, Kurosaki?"

"Touch me. Suck me. Fuck me."

Grimmjow arched a brow in amusement. "In that order?"

Ichigo nodded, a brilliant blush decorating his cheeks, neck and chest. He peppered urgent kisses against Grimmjow's lips, jaw and cheeks, his breathing erratic and shallow. Grimmjow growled and leaning forward, nipped the shell of Ichigo's ear.

"I can do that," he murmured.

He switched their positions, making Ichigo lean against the desk as he went to his knees. He would never do this for another man, even before he'd started seeing Ichigo. It had always been head on his terms. He never went to his knees for anyone.

Ichigo was different.

Ichigo had the power to turn him into a blithering idiot, if the need moved him.

Grimmjow cupped his boyfriend's testicles and wasted no time sucking the head of Ichigo's curved shaft into his mouth. A delicious mixture of salt, skin and Ichigo exploded in Grimmjow's mouth as he took more and more into it. Ichigo heaved a deep sigh and plowed a hand into Grimmjow's hair, mouth opened slightly.

"Mm, sensei," he groaned.

Grimmjow relaxed his throat and eased his boyfriend's member deeper into his mouth until none was visible from the outside. He looked up and moaned at the sight of Ichigo watching him intently.

Kami, that turned him on.

Ichigo hissed, the hand in Grimmjow's hair tightening even more as his hips began to move on their own, pistoning back and forth. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, loving that look on Ichigo's face; he didn't think he could wait much longer to dive deeply into his boyfriend. He wanted to fuck Ichigo on his desk, being completely messy as they knocked paper and other paraphernalia to the floor.

Grimmjow explored the underside of Ichigo's arousal, laving it and pausing to suck tenderly. He didn't know how much longer he could last with his anxiety at such a level.

Ichigo matched Grimmjow's rhythm effortlessly, hips bucking and jerking, a fine sheen of sweat forming across his upper lip and brow. "Sensei, sensei," Ichigo chanted wantonly.

Grimmjow pulled back.

He didn't want Ichigo to come yet.

He rose to his feet and stood beside a flustered Ichigo, reaching for his laptop and briefcase, then pushing both items to the very far edges of the big, mahogany desk. He turned back to Ichigo, but before he could speak, Ichigo bent at the waist and reached towards the bottom left drawer of the desk. He shuffled around inside and revealed a small bottle of unscented lubricant, making Grimmjow grin at his careful preparations. Ichigo returned the smirk, brown eyes glowing.

It was time.

After curling an arm around the smaller man's waist, Grimmjow hefted him on top of the glossy, wooden structure, hurriedly following behind him.

"I need that lube, Kurosaki."

Ichigo handed it off with another smirk, then positioned himself on all fours, wiggling his perfectly rounded bottom at Grimmjow. "I'm ready, sensei," he breathed.

Grimmjow grunted as he popped the top to the bottle. He poured a generous amount between the cleft of Ichigo's cheeks and watched in amusement as it ran down over a pink pucker, over tightened testicles and down the insides of the shorter man's enticing legs. Grimmjow hummed, licking his lips as he did so.

He couldn't wait to bury himself inside Ichigo's tight passage.

He used both hands to spread Ichigo's cheeks apart, chuckling under his breath when Ichigo mewled and arched his back. "Anxious?" he asked.

Ichigo looked over his shoulder at him and winked. "Definitely, sensei."

Grimmjow released one cheek and swatted it playfully before using his index finger to circle the tight, fawn-colored hole, pressing against it gently, knowing that it would drive his lover crazy with impatience. Just like he thought, Ichigo groaned and pushed back, trying to coax the finger inside him.

"Sensei, don't tease me," he whined.

Grimmjow smiled and dipped his finger into him, submerging it to the last knuckle, making Ichigo moan and shift his hips restlessly. "Like that, Kurosaki?"

"Yes! Yes, please...more, sensei!"

Grimmjow worked his finger in and out, gripping Ichigo's left cheek tighter. Kami, his insides were always so fucking clingy. Grimmjow eased a second finger inside, loving how it was sucked in like a vacuum. The lubricant made things slick and wet and he could only imagine his rock-hard erection taking the place of his searching fingers.

Ichigo was breathing a little harder now, his body trembling from the effort of being patient. Grimmjow decided to ease his pain by adding a third finger, scissoring all of them as he stroked Ichigo's satiny insides.

"Ohh," Ichigo moaned, rolling his hips. "Sensei, I want..." his voice trailed off with a whimper as Grimmjow found and slid his fingers over Ichigo's prostate.

"Whatcha want, Kurosaki?"

"I-inside me...now...please, sensei!"

Grimmjow smirked, growing impatient himself. "Ya want sensei's dick?"

Ichigo groaned and rolled his hips again. "Yes!"

"Ya sure?"

"Yes! Please! I'm positive! Just fuck me, sensei, I can't wait anymore!"

Grimmjow grinned and growled at the urgent tone in Ichigo's voice and removed his gleaming fingers. Slathering more of the clear substance onto his length, he spread Ichigo open again, this time getting to his knees behind him on top of the desk.

He wasn't slow or gentle when he seated himself inside his boyfriend; he plunged like a heat-seeking missile into the smaller man's core. Ichigo gritted his teeth and clung to the edge of the desk, his back arched dramatically as Grimmjow groaned heatedly and dug blunt fingernails into Ichigo's hips.

He savored the feeling of the initial penetration and of Ichigo's walls hugging him tightly, rocking his hips as he did so. Soon enough, Ichigo whimpered and moved with him. "S-sensei..."

Grimmjow understood perfectly.

Without preamble, he pushed down on the center of Ichigo's back, ordering him to, "Arch more, Kurosaki," as he adjusted his knees comfortably. Once Ichigo had lowered his upper body to the desk, Grimmjow pulled back and snapped forward quickly, testing the waters. Ichigo gasped breathlessly and Grimmjow grunted.

Just right.

Ichigo was slick from the lube and tight as a tourniquet.

Grimmjow inhaled deeply and settled into a swift, firm pace. Ichigo hissed before his mouth hung open and his nut-brown eyes slid shut.

"Yesss," he warbled. "F-fuck...yes."

Grimmjow spread Ichigo's knees as far apart as they could go and leaned over his sloped back, bracing his weight on his forearms and fists. He resumed his fervent pace, reveling in the deeper penetration.

"Shit," he grunted before exhaling noisily.

He loved the way his hips slapped against Ichigo's firm bottom as he buried himself to the hilt over and over, drawing harsh groans from the orange-haired man beneath him.

"Oh! Oh, k-kami! Grimmjow...so good!" Ichigo moaned deliriously, the side of his face pressed against the mahogany desk.

"What...happened...to sensei?" Grimmjow panted between fast, brutal thrusts.

"F-fuck that! Nngh!"

Grimmjow chuckled silently, the action bleeding into a groan when Ichigo began moving with him, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "Fuuuck, Ichi."

Grimmjow lowered himself over Ichigo's arched back and left wet, open-mouthed kisses against his sweat-dampened shoulders and the nape of his neck.

"Kami! Harder, Grimm! Faster! Fuck, I'm almost there!" Ichigo moaned desperately.

Grimmjow groaned at the sporadic tightening of Ichigo's insides as he picked up speed and force, pounding into Ichigo like a sledgehammer.

Shit. He wasn't going to last long at this rate.

Ichigo had a hand between his body and the desk, stroking his erection feverishly, his mouth opened wide, eyes screwed shut and face flushed a deep crimson. Grimmjow dropped his head and watched his dick being swallowed repeatedly by Ichigo's greedy insides, those hot, lube-slick walls rubbing and squeezing him closer and closer to release.

Grimmjow started rolling his hips with each fierce thrust and that sent Ichigo over the edge. Ichigo's body tensed and his hand moved faster. Grimmjow was constricted by those satin insides as Ichigo hollered his orgasm. "OHH! FUCK!"

Grimmjow winced as he thrust through the restricting tightness, glad when Ichigo finally relaxed, his insides going soft again. Grimmjow panted harshly as he sped up even more, his dick surging as his climax hovered over him.

"I'm comin'!" he gasped.

Ichigo moaned and reached further between his legs, cupping and massaging Grimmjow's testicles. That did him in. "UNH!" he shouted, pressing deeply into his lover as his release was yanked out of him.

His entire body shuddered as he slowly rocked his hips, giving short, shallow thrusts while he rode out his orgasm. Finally, his body stopped moving and before he slumped over, he eased out of Ichigo. Ichigo grunted from the impact of their bodies coming together, but chuckled afterward.

"Thanks, sensei," he murmured, turning over to face Grimmjow with a coy smirk.

Grimmjow cracked a grin and ran a hand through Ichigo's soft, damp, bright orange hair. "Welcome. Ya know ya gotta tell me which one a'yer teachers ya had a crush on in school now, right?"

Ichigo grinned mysteriously and fit his body closer to Grimmjow's, uncaring of the semen sticking to his belly from where he'd been pressed against the desk. "No way. You'd probably go lookin' for the guy."

"Damn straight. Yer mine," Grimmjow growled, wrapping his arms possessively around his boyfriend.

Ichigo kissed his chin. "I know that."

"Good."

WOOT! Been so long right? Sorry! :'D Hope you enjoyed this installment! Til next time!