Late for French

Oliver’s POV

School was over and I was taking my books and homework out of my locker what I would need for my tutoring lessons with Mr Franceschi. Yes, I actually did the worksheets he set for me which is a bloody miracle because I never do homework but I only did it to see if Mr Franceschi would reward me in some way.

“Oli, how nice to see you.”

I look behind my locker door and see Mr Fuentes approaching me from down the hall. I hadn’t seen him since school had started but Jordan told me he wasn’t happy that I dropped out of his Spanish class.

“¿Qué pasa señor Fuentes?” I grin, remembering my Spanish rather well.

“Que es muy bueno escuchar que no ha olvidado su Spanish.” He answers back in Spanish.

“Sí.” I once had a B in Spanish before I let my grade slip and failed. Oops.

“Makes me wonder why you dropped out of my class.” He says with an unimpressed look along with a hint of an explaination.

I knew I was due this talk with him.

“Sorry to disappoint you Mr F but your classes were cool and all but I heard the new French teacher was hot as fuck and you know I need to stay occupied in my classes.” I smirk as my eyes follow Mr Franceschi walk past us down the end of the hall.

He unlocks the French class room before connecting his gaze with mine for a moment and nods for me to follow him and enters into the room.

“I’m glad you chose French for all the right reasons.” Mr Fuentes says sarcastically making me bring my attention back at my sulking Spanish teacher.

“You’re not jealous are you Mr F?” I confront him teasingly with my knowing smirk.

He scoffs and shakes his head.

“I’m not interested in your crushes Oli, I’m more concerned about your school grades.”

He was such a responsible teacher. It kind of ruined his easy going laid back side which I really liked about him. He was the only teacher though that had faith that I could actually pass classes even if I didn’t believe it myself. But here I am running away from his advice and running right into trouble with my French teacher because I found it more exciting.

“Seriously Oliver, when you get over your crush for Mr Franceschi and want to start taking your education seriously, I’ll be more than happy to transfer you back into my class. It’s not too late.”

“Thanks for the offer sir but I wanna stay in French.”

He sighs as I close my locker door shut.

“Please try and focus on your studies, I’ll hate to see you fail again. I know you can go far when you put your mind to it.” he tells me with a look of concern of his face.

Spanish and Art were the only classes I was good at, well, where my grades didn’t suck. But I haven’t even handed in any Art homework since school started and as for French, I was only doing the homework now so that Mr Franceschi would give me the attention I so desperately desired from him.

“Oliver.” Mr Franceschi calls from his class room. My tutoring lessons had started and I was wasting the hour I had with him standing out here talking to Mr Fuentes.

“Nice talking to you Mr Fuentes.” I say my goodbyes and walk to where Mr Franceschi waited for me.

“You know where to find me if you change your mind.” Mr Fuentes says before walking to his class room which was at the other end of the corridor.

Mr Franceschi closes the door behind me as I entered and I greet him with my knowing cocky grin but he didn’t look too happy.

“What did Mr Fuentes want with you?” he questions with furrowed brows.

“He wants me back in his class.” I say casually, leaning against his desk trying to look as irresistible as I could.

“And?”

“And I told him I was having too much fun getting spanked in French class.” I joked.

“Funny.” He rolls his eyes at me trying to be smart.

He makes his way over to the desk ignoring the fact that I was practically sitting on it and takes a seat in his chair and sighs. I frown that he didn’t acknowledge me the way I wanted him to, or he did but chose to ignore it.

I didn’t have French with him today nor have I seen him all day so I wasn’t aware of his mood. Surely he can’t be annoyed at Mr Fuentes for talking to me? Maybe he just had long hard day and I’ll be more than willing to change that for him.

“Grab a seat and we’ll get started.”

I put my books down and jumped down from his desk and chose to shake off whatever mood he was in.

I take a chair from one of the front tables and place it on the left side of his desk and hand over my completed worksheets. I see him raise his eyebrows as he quickly flips through the worksheets to double check they were all completed.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises.” He reaches for his red pen and starts marking.

“Don’t sound so surprise, I am capable of homework.”

“Only when you know you’re getting something in return.” He comments and I send him an overly smug grin.

Damn right, I wouldn’t just do homework for nothing.

He doesn’t say anything after that and begins marking the worksheets where as I just sat with my elbow resting on the desk and my head in my hand dying of boredom. My eyes were looking around the room trying to focus on something entertaining enough as I waited for Mr Franceschi to finish but there wasn’t anything.

I sigh loudly but Mr Franceschi took no notice of it and I started to get annoyed that he was acting like every other teacher and not giving me the attention that I wanted but with silence as a punishment.

With a frown sketched onto my face I glanced down to see how far he had got with marking my work and that’s when I notice he had a tiny tattoo on his finger. Mr Franceschi didn’t seem like the type to have tattoos and this made me curious if he had anymore.

The one on his finger I worked out to be a Roman numeral number six and I couldn’t help but wonder what it stood for.

“So, what’s the meaning behind the tattoo on your finger?” I ask tilting my head in curiosity.

I notice him freeze for a split second before he frowns and curls his fingers into a fist so I couldn’t see his tattoo anymore.

“Just a stupid mistake.” He mumbles, signalling that he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Aren’t you grown ups supposed to be wise enough not to make stupid mistakes like that?” I ask.

“And you don’t think when you’re 30 you’re still going to think having ‘high five’ tattooed on your hand will still be cool?” He snaps gesturing to my palm tattoo.

“Hell yeah, I’m going to be a cool 30 year old with no regrets.” I smirk leaning back in my chair as he shakes his head at me.

“You’re in for a rude awaking kid.”

“Says you.”

“How did you manage to get a tattoo anyway when you’re clearly underage?” he points out.

“I know people.” I shrug with a grin looking down at the permanent artwork on my hand.

It was a birthday present from Jona. His older brother knows a guy and hooked us both up getting tattoos on my sixteen birthday. I thought it was a really cool design and I knew it would piss off my mum to.

“You mean blondie? Yet another reason to prove that he’s a bad influence on you.” He accuses and my playful mood disappears.

“And you seem like a jealous stalker but we all have our opinions.” I say defensively folding my arms to my chest and looking away from him.

I was pissed off now. I hated whenever someone blamed Jona for my actions, I was capable of making my own decisions.

“Do not speak to me like that Oliver.” He scowls.

“Well keep your assumptions about Jona to yourself.” I spit back.

And without another word he grabs the collar of my blazer and yanks me up out of my seat and pushes me over his desk harshly.

“What have I told you about your shitty attitude towards me?!” he growls.

“Get off me!” I seethed as I struggled to push myself up from the desk because he just shoved me back down on it with his strength again.

“Calm down.” He whispers in my ear, his body practically holding me down.

I growl in frustration because I was pinned to the desk and unable to move no matter how much I tried. It was only making me angrier. I wanted to punch him, hit him, kick him. Tell him how much I hated him and that he was a complete dickhead.

“Shhh, calm down my sweet.” His lips ghost over the shell of my ear and nudges the side of my head with his nose.

My heavy breathing slowly dies down but it started to speed up again for a whole different reason. I feel Mr Franceschi breathe in my scent as his nose was buried in my hair and his crotch pushed up against my ass which made my dick twitches a couple of times. It’s crazy how he could change my mood so easily. One minute I’m this out of control bad tempted teenager and the next I’m this needy obedient teenager who turns into a slut when my teacher teases me with sexual activities.

He loosen his grip on me and his hands trail they’re way down my sides and then to my hips. He steps back so he wasn’t leaning on me anymore but I was still bent over his desk panting anticipation. Just like before, his big hands glide over my ass giving it a tight squeeze and sliding his hands down to the back of my thighs and up again.

This was exactly what he did last time, he got me all worked up with these stupid little touches but he did nothing to act upon them. But the difference this time was, I feel his hands snake their way to the front of my school trousers and undo’s the top button and slowly pulls down the zipper. I let out a shaky breath as he tugs my trousers down to my thighs making me tremble with nerves and excitement mixed into one.

Holy shit, he was really going to do this. He was actually keeping his word and rewarding me with the sexual activities I craved from him.

I lay still like a good school boy and watched as Mr Franceschi picks up the wooden ruler without hesitation. My eyes grow wide when I knew what punishment I was in for but I bite my lip and wait for the first spank.

He gently places the ruler on my arse and I flinch not knowing what to expect but surprisingly he starts drawing soft little circles on my butt.

“Lets see how well you remember your homework, I want you to count each spank in French. I want you to impress me, understand?” His voice was deep and stern.

By impressing him there was a hint that he meant that he doesn’t just want me to count in French until I didn’t know anymore, he wanted me to be able to handle this spanking.

“Yes sir.”

I had a feeling the wooden ruler would hurt a lot more than the plastic ruler and that made me nervous. I was going to find out soon enough though.

He hits me hard and fast with the ruler making me cry out in pain as I squeeze my eyes shut. I tried to ignore the stinging pain which ran through my butt and think of the first number.

“Un.” I gasp trying not to focus on the pain.

He hits me again harder and I leap forwards on the desk.

“Deux.”

And again.

“Trois.”

I bit into my lip harshly and held tighter onto the edges of the desk for some sort of relief.

“Good boy, keep it up.” He encourages and hits me harder on my lower butt cheek causing me to falter.

“Q-quatre.” I stuttered feeling myself slowly coming undone.

“Cinq.” I breathed deeply.

I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes. It hurt a lot but I liked too.

“S-six.” I cried as I lent my forehead against the desk.

The ruler hits my arse again and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. It was lethal but sent chills of pleasure throughout my body and my mind was just a mess at this point, I couldn’t concentrate anymore.

“Come on, I know you know this.” Mr Franceschi demands and brings down the wooden ruler to my sensitive body again.

I whimper as he hits me harder and harder each time with the wooden object. I failed to count this time not remembering the number seven in French.

“Count Oliver.” He orders but I whimper in response.

He hits me again and I screech at the sudden pain and when I didn’t speak again he hits me again.

“Seven spanks? Really? I thought you could do better than that.” He says disappointedly.

I didn’t want to give up just yet. I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t do this or know the number in the language he was demanding because I did know it, I just couldn’t focus.

“S-sept!” I yelled out when I remembered and I hear a faint chuckle come from behind me before he whips me again.

“Huit.” I was going to have bruises after this spanking that’s for sure.

He hits me deliberately hard below my boxer shorts on the bare skin of my upper left thigh and that’s when I caved. I yelped loudly at the pain and shook my head violently not being able to take anymore.

I hear the ruler drop next to me on the desk and he pulls me up from the desk and turns me around.

Mr Franceschi studies my face as always to search for any signs of me being hurt or reluctance towards him but I give him a small smile to assure him that I was okay. I was just a little sore and in fact, really horny.

I watch as his gaze trails down my body and stares longingly down at my ranging hard on in my tight black and grey striped boxers. I can’t help but blush heavily. He was admiring me and I couldn’t want he so much than I did right now.

“That looks inviting.” he breaths eyeing up my aching erection.

“Please.” I beg.

He places his finger under my chin and lifts my head to look up at him with eyes filled with nothing but want and lust.

“Please what?” he asks teasingly.

“Please touch me.”

My body ached for him that I actually thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest.

He smiles and pulls his face away ever so slightly.

“Not today Oliver.”

I whine in frustration. He was killing me here; I just wanted him to touch me. I couldn’t go another day with him leaving me hanging like this, it was torture. That’s when I decided I had enough of this bullshit, I had to make the next move to make him want me.

If he wasn’t going to touch me then I was. Maybe this will change his mind and give in to me.

Without breaking eye contact with him I bite down on my bottom lip innocently and bring my hand up to the front of my boxers and grasp myself through the thin material. I let out a ragged moan at how good it felt to be touch and I see Mr Franceschi’s eyes grow wide with shock and hunger.

He’s quick to pull my hand away from myself and pin it back behind me on the desk before harshly shoving me against it with his body force pushed up against mine along with it.

“That was a naughty move Oliver.” He growls.

I moan at the feeling of his hot breath on my sensitive skin, I was so turned on right now.

“Ugh, please sir.”

“You’re not ready yet.” He says with his lips close to my ear which makes me shiver in pleasure.

“I-I am.” I gasp as he pushes his lower half harder into me to create more friction I so desperately needed.

I was pinned to the desk with the force of my teacher’s body, my school trousers pulled down to my thighs whilst we torture each other by rocking our lower halves back and forth into each others. How could he not want to fuck me? Isn’t he feeling this chemistry between us?

“Y-you said you’ll reward me if I did my homework.” I remind him.

“You did the worksheets but not the essay.”

“Seriously?” I frown.

“Yes, seriously.” He says pulling away from me and letting go of my hands so I was free.

He taps me on the nose with his finger and smirks down at me.

“So there will be no reward for you.”