**Author's note: George is 32 and Paul is 17. Don't like, don't read.**

Paul was absolutely hopeless. The worst of it was that he knew it too. He was sitting in his biology class and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus at all on what his teacher was saying. His eyes continued to wander, travelling down his teacher's body to take it all in, his skinny frame, those sharp cheekbones, those long skilled fingers - white with chalk - his cute little butt. God, he shouldn't be thinking about his teacher like this, but he couldn't help himself. No matter how hard he tried to just look down into his book and listen to what he had to say and take his damn notes, his eyes would always find their way back to him.

Focusing on his face didn't help either, Paul's mind quickly drifting from the discussion on the nervous system to the guy's lips (he felt the strange urge to bite down the man's bottom lip) to his jawline (which he wanted to suck on) to his dark brown eyes that seemed to look straight into your soul when they focused on you (which he would then stare into, leaving his mind completely blank). And then, after perhaps a minute or two, his eyes would travel down anyway, either to take a good look at the man's impressive bulge or his ass, depending on which way he was facing, the class or the board. And of course, Mr Harrison would pick that exact moment to call on him to answer one of his questions.

God, everyone in his class probably thought he was the stupidest guy on the planet. Except for John, who knew exactly what kept his mind busy during their biology classes and spent most of his free time teasing him about it. It was hell.

Paul jerked awake as he felt someone poke his side just in time to get him out of his daydream and for him to look away from his teacher's crotch and instead look up at his face to pretend he was paying attention as Mr Harrison turned back to the class again. Fuck... those eyes. And the way his lips formed those words in that thick scouse accent of his was just downright sinful. Paul didn't think he had ever heard another teacher speak with such a thick accent before. He wished he knew what he sounded like when he was panting and out of breath, mouthing the filthiest stuff to him as he pressed his thighs apart and slid in with one long-

"Mr McCartney! I asked you a question." Fuck... Paul jerked awake again, feeling how his cheeks heated up and he quickly scanned the board to see what they were talking about, hoping to be able to say at least something useful. Maybe he could remember something what he had read last night (he had started to read and study the chapters in advance in the hope not to fall behind too much). Only, the words on the board weren't even making any sense to him.

"You have to know this, McCartney. The test is next week, if you remember," Mr Harrison said in a raised voice, and Paul squirmed in his seat at the authoritative tone. Fucking hell, he was done for.

"It's er... the er... Sum-som... er... somatic nervous system er... does uhm... something with er.. regulating body functions?" he stammered, just trying to string words together he found on the board and that he vaguely remembered from his reading. Regulating body functions? That was the somatic nervous system, right? He offered Mr. Harrison a smile that was supposed to be charming, hoping he could charm his way out of it, but he had probably looked far too stressed to make that work, as Mr Harrison only shook his head in disappointment.

"Nice try, Mr McCartney. But you're talking about the autonomic nervous system. The somatic nervous system relays sensation from the body and controls the movements of the body," he explained, and Paul nodded, feeling like an idiot. He could have known that. It was only logical, as body functions were mostly automatic. He could have known that. If only Mr Harrison wasn't so goddamn distracting.

"Maybe if you had paid attention instead of daydreaming during my class, you would have remembered. Come and see me after class," Mr Harrison added, and Paul flushed red as he quickly looked down into his book, his mind beginning to flood with impossible scenarios, most of them illegal. God, he was hopeless.

"Did you hear me, McCartney?" his teacher asked, and Paul quickly nodded.

"Yes, sir. I understood, sir," he answered politely, trying to will the start of his erection away. For the rest of the lesson, he forced himself not to look up anymore, and only barely managed through it. But when the bell rang, he didn't feel relief like his other classmates. Instead, he felt even more nervous, wondering what Mr Harrison wanted of him. Would he be punished? What if they called his dad? How was he going to explain to his father why he somehow didn't manage to keep his mind on the lesson during biology, but he was fine and a top student in every other class? Oh, he was in deep trouble.

George watched the young lad at the back of his class curiously as he waited for the other students to leave the room. Paul McCartney had caught his attention the moment he had first stepped inside his classroom. He was a young teenage boy, with droopy hazel doe-eyes, pouty lips, adorably chubby cheeks, perfectly shaped eyebrows, and ridiculously long slim legs with a firm arse. He wore his hair in a quiff like all lads these days, which stood out against his school uniform. He was a pretty boy. Not handsome, but pretty. George liked them pretty.

He knew he shouldn't. He knew it was wrong, but whenever he laid his eyes on that boy he felt that familiar pang of arousal in his gut that he couldn't deny and that made it hard to care about what he exactly should and shouldn't be doing to a lad his age. But he couldn't help himself. Paul was too pretty, too attractive, too feminine, too fuckable. Sometimes it was hard to control himself around him, wishing he could just push Paul over his desk, spank his butt purple, and fuck him hard for everyone to see. Paul wouldn't even mind, probably. He'd be gagging for it, telling him to do it harder, to fuck him harder, to hit him harder, until he would go completely slack with pleasure. If only he wouldn't lose his job if he did that. It would be perfect. If only he could. But although it was painfully obvious the boy was gagging for him to fuck the living shit out of him, he was still his student, meaning it was forbidden and god, George knew that shouldn't be making him hard, but it did. Lord, he longed to know what it would be like to have that boy in his lap and around his dick.

When the last of his pupils had left the room and shut the door behind them, George looked up from his desk to where Paul was sitting. He looked up at him too, waiting for him to say something. Fuck, that lad was just perfect. He squirmed in his seat, willing his erection to go away, as he crossed his legs. When he met Paul's eyes again, he called him over and told him to lock the door on his way. Paul frowned at that, probably finding it odd that his teacher would want to lock the door, but did it anyway without question. George smirked, hoping Paul would be as obedient when he was fucking him as well. This was his chance. If he wanted to have anything with the young lad, this was his opportunity and he wasn't going to let it pass him by.

"Please, sit down," George said as he pointed at the chair on the left side of his desk, wanting to have Paul as close to him as possible. He wondered briefly what he would do if he were to tell him to sit in his lap instead. Paul obediently sat down where George had told him to.

"I erm... I'm sorry about my behaviour in class, Mr Harrison. I can't seem to get myself to focus lately," Paul said as he looked down at his hands in his lap, a slight flush of embarrassment creeping up on his cheeks. George licked his lips hungrily at the tempting sight. This boy was so perfect. Still, George managed to stay professional and not let anything slip.

"Yes, so I've noticed," he muttered as he clicked his tongue, catching his student's attention, wanting those sinful hazel eyes on him. "Paul, I know you're not stupid. I know you're almost top of the class in other subjects, but you never seem to know what we are talking about during my lessons." He tried to sound hurt, hoping to play on the boy's sense of guilt as a way to persuade him. Sure enough, the lad's eyes went wide before he looked down in shame and started nibbling his bottom lip, chewing it between his teeth, which did more to George, than he was willing to admit. Besides, he had to remain professional. He didn't want to scare the boy away, after all.

"I know, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"Why is that, Paul? Are you not interested, or-"'

"No, I am! I am. I just... have a hard time focusing lately. I er... I don't know why."

"But according to Mrs Whitehall you're doing well in her classes and none of the other teachers seem to notice anything off about you. So why with me?" The boy's lips curled at the question and kept his eyes down as he squirmed in his seat, crossing his legs under the desk. God, he wasn't making this up, was he? This wasn't just his own arousal talking, was it? Paul looked so positively adorable when he sat like that, completely embarrassed as he probably became more and more aroused as the fantasies that floated around in his pretty little head got the better of him. Oh, how he wished he could help him out of his misery. His hands twitched with the need to touch and take. They were alone, the door was locked, no one would see... But if he read Paul wrong... He needed to be absolutely certain the boy wanted the same thing he did, if he wanted to keep his job. One wrong word out of the boy's luscious mouth, and he'd be done for; he needed to be patient.

"Paul? Is there something bothering you? You know you can tell me anything," he tried, grinning when the boy swallowed a frustrated groan, his eyes lifting up again to meet his, staring at him almost pleadingly, begging him to help him and god, how could George refuse something so pretty and arousing? He tried to speak again, but the boy had taken the words from his mouth with that one look, leaving him with nothing for a short while.

"I'm alright, Mr Harrison. Really. I'll try harder from now on, I promise."

"Material not too hard for you?"

"No, sir."

"Everything at home alright?"

"Yes, sir. Like I said, I just need to focus. I'll try my best, I promise," Paul all but begged, seeming eager to leave. George, however, wasn't willing to let him go that easily just yet. He leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to take in all of Paul's form, and watching him look away nervously at the intensity of his gaze.

"You know, Paul. You can't do anything about not being able to focus if you don't know why it keeps happening. The test is next week and I don't want to have to fail you. So are you positive there's nothing wrong? Nothing... personal? Something I could help with?" he asked, and Paul looked up in surprise at that, their eyes meeting again, and in that look, in those wide hazel eyes, was everything George needed to know. Paul's stammering as he tried to formulate an answer, only confirmed it more.

"I... I... I'm..." the lad tried, but George took pity on him and leaned towards him as he placed a hand on his knee. Right away, the boy fell silent as he stared down at where his teacher's hand was touching him.

"It's okay, Paul," George said in a soft voice, lowering it slightly in the hope to make his intention more than clear as he searched for his eyes. Paul stared at him a moment, looking up at him from underneath his ridiculously long eyelashes, and for a moment neither spoke, both nervous for what the other would do. That is, until George realised Paul hadn't yet tried to pull away from him. He licked his lips, before he spoke.

"Sometimes," he started, still looking deeply into his student's eyes. "Certain things can be distracting. Certain... tensions can make it difficult to focus. Sometimes, though, it can help to... erm... resolve them." He couldn't have made it any clearer, he thought, without making it explicit, but still, Paul tried to remain oblivious and innocent about it, blinking his pretty eyes at him as he cocked his head slightly to the side.

"Sir? I'm afraid I don't know-" Paul started, but George quickly interrupted him by shaking his head, wordlessly telling him to stop talking.

"I won't say anything, Paul. That is, as long as you don't. Because, if I've been seeing correctly, I might be able to help you with your 'distractions'. Am I correct?"

"Sir, that is... that's... inappropriate," Paul answered, his cheeks growing a darker pink as he looked away shyly, breaking their eye contact. Before George knew what he was doing, however, he had taken the boy's chin between his thumb and forefinger and firmly angled his face back up to meet him, thus crossing the boundary of pretence. With that, however, Paul's little wall of coyness crumbled down as well, his pupils quickly dilating as he let out a shuddering breath at the touch, clearly liking the dominance that lay behind it.

"Well," George spoke with a smug little grin, leaning in a little more until their lips were only inches away from brushing together. "Maybe I intended to be inappropriate. That is, as long as you can keep your pretty mouth shut about it. What do you say?" He had barely even uttered the question when Paul had leaned in the rest of the way, and claimed his mouth in a piercing kiss, taking him by surprise, and thus causing him to moan and his other hand to tighten its hold on Paul's knee, pulling him to him rather forcefully. Paul, however, only seemed to love it, his own hands coming up to grab at the lapels of his suit jacket, grasping them tightly in his fists, refusing to let go.

His mouth was hot and firm, but before George had had time to fully enjoy their first kiss, it had already ended again, leaving him hungry for more, wanting to properly taste the boy. He cracked his eyes open and met Paul's hazy ones, as he uttered his name in a whisper.

"Yes, Mr Harrison?" Paul answered with the same obedience he had showed when he had locked the door, something George was happy he had asked the boy to do, as it meant they didn't need to take any more precautions now. George loved that obedience, the way his name rolled off the boy's tongue sending shivers down his spine.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. Is... is that a problem?" Paul asked, sounding unsure. George fought the urge to laugh, and merely smiled at him as he shook his head.

"It's perfect," he said, and with that, he forced his lips back against the boy's, moaning at the feeling of those luscious firm lips pressed against his own, warm and soft. God, kissing him was even better than George had imagined it would be, and, not being able to hold himself back any longer, he parted his lips and licked across the boy's bottom lip, asking entrance, which he was granted right away. George took the invitation eagerly and slowly licked into the boy's mouth, savouring the sweet taste of his breath as the boy sighed into his mouth and his tongue came up to curl around him, kissing back with enthusiasm, the wantonness dripping off it. George almost felt guilty for having made the boy wait for it this long, because this angel of a boy deserved to have everything he could ever want. George took his time to explore Paul's mouth, licking at every corner and marking him as his own all over, before he allowed his tongue to dance with Paul's, keeping his movements forceful, which caused his student to basically melt into his arms as he moaned. The sound went straight to his crotch, his cock giving an eager twitch. God, he wanted to hear more of that wonderful voice.

Forcing himself to pull away from the young boy, he let out a shuddering breath as he opened his eyes and came face to face with the utterly debauched look on Paul's face: his lips parted and wet with saliva, already puffy from their heated kissing, his pupils dilated so far that his eyes looked almost black, his cheeks rosy from arousal. It was a gorgeous sight - a sight George hoped he'd see more often now. God, this kid was going to be the death of him.

"Sir?" the boy breathed, and something inside of George just snapped at the sound of the boy's voice, already so wrecked - he wanted to wreck it even more. He grabbed him by his shoulders, pulled him off his chair and yanked him to him, forcing him down on his knees before him, his head at the same height as his crotch, forcing him to look at it. He watched in amusement as he saw Paul's eyes grow wide at the sight of the bulge in his slacks, his eyeballs nearly dropping from their sockets, before he looked up at him again, questioningly this time, as if he wasn't sure what to do next. Luckily, George was there to help him along, being more than eager to pervert this sweet boy.

"Come on, pretty boy. You want it, don't you? You've been staring at it plenty of times already," he teased, and Paul swallowed thickly, before he nodded and looked back down at his crotch with a doubtful look. Growing rather impatient, George tangled a hand into his silky hair and pulled him closer to him, forcing his face to his crotch, until Paul's nose nudged it. Just that simple touch alone, was enough to make George growl with want, his fingers tightening in his hair. Encouraged by the sound, Paul finally leaned in, nosing his teacher's erection through his slacks as he took in the scent of him, moaning at the muskiness.

"You're so pretty when you're on your knees for me, Paul. I knew you would be. Now, don't be shy," he said as he ran his fingers through his hair, stroking it back with the occasional pull as he enjoyed the feeling of Paul's face rubbing his crotch like that. Soon, though, he got impatient again, knowing they didn't have all the time in the world to enjoy each other, so he slid off his jacket and laid it on the desk, before doing the same with Paul's, slowly sliding it off the boy's young and slender frame and throwing it away, not caring if it creased. It was only a school uniform. Besides, he liked the idea of Paul going home with rumpled clothes, reminding him about what he had done. Then, however, as if Paul had known what he wanted, the boy pulled back, sat up on his knees and brought his hands up to undo the older man's slacks, opening it button by button, before sliding his hand inside. George gasped as he felt the boy's cold and calloused fingers wrap themselves around his hardening shaft, the feeling of something so cold against his heated flesh being a wonderful, almost addicting, contrast. His eyes fluttered closed as Paul pulled him out of his underwear and leaned in, carefully wrapping his lips around the tip as he looked up into his eyes, keeping eye contact as he slowly started moving his mouth down his shaft, sliding it deeper and deeper into him, as far as he could manage.

God, the boy was perfect. He was so beautiful on his knees before him, his eyes focused solely on him as he lips were spread wide around the head of his cock, struggling to take in more and more. His mouth was hot and wet, tight because of how small it was, but because of that it was even better. George's fingers tightened into Paul's hair and pulled hard, causing the boy to groan in pain as he was heaved forward, being forced to take in more than he was ready to, and thus gagging on his teacher's cock. The sight of his eyes watering up as he struggled to keep himself from pulling away was better than anything George had ever seen before.

"Christ, Paulie. You're being such a good boy for me, you know that? Such a good boy for your teacher. Ugh... swallow it down," George moaned in pleasure, and Paul beamed at the praise. Right away he started to take more of his teacher's cock into his mouth, slowly easing the head down his throat, feeling it stretch him wide open.

"So perfect," was all George could say in return, and he tried his best to hold still as he sat back in his chair and let Paul do what he wanted, simply wanting to enjoy it and watch the show. He let himself enjoy it, watching him through half-lidded eyes as Paul did his best to please him, his hand coming up to stroke whatever he couldn't fit into his mouth. It was practically perfect, Paul's tongue circling the head eagerly whenever he pulled back and taking his time to explore and see what worked for the older man, becoming more and more enthusiastic whenever he did something well, doing his best to please him. George truly hoped this wouldn't be the last time he had him to himself, which reminded him...

"Stop. That's enough," George suddenly spoke, catching Paul by surprise. He pulled off with reluctance and made sure to lick up any of George's precum before he sat back and looked up at his teacher, waiting eagerly for him to give him another order.

"So obedient. You're my perfect little slut, aren't you?" George mused, pushing Paul's hair out of his face, before cradling his cheek in the palm of his hand and bringing his face up to meet him for another kiss. This one was slower, more controlled, but not less hungry, both man licking hungrily and nipping at the other's lips, wanting to drown in the pleasure it brought them. Eventually, though, George had to pull back, having something else on his mind, which he knew Paul would love.

"Get on the desk," he told him as he broke the kiss. "Lay down on your back and spread your legs. I want to see your face." Paul did as he was asked with a nod, clearly eager to do whatever the older man told him to do, wanting to please and be good for him, like the perfect plaything he was supposed to be. He turned around and pushed some of George's stuff to the side, being careful not to mess things up, while giving his teacher a good look at his arse as he bended over more than was strictly necessary. Oh yes, the boy knew how to play him. Cheeky, he was. Then Paul, turned back around and licked his lips seductively as he hopped onto the wooden desk and slowly leaned back to lie down, keeping his eyes locked on George's all the while, knowing he liked that. George stared at him and took in the boy's young body with eager eyes as he admired him, watching how his muscles pulled tight as he laid down. Once he was lying on the desk like George had told him to do, the older man pushed his chair back and got up, reaching out for him and grabbing the seventeen-year-old's thighs with both hands, digging his nails into his flesh as he forcefully pulled them apart, spreading them as wide as they could go, so he could stand between them. Paul let him move him around, his body being almost completely slack for him, making it easy for George to position him in whatever way he wished.

"Perfect," George couldn't help but mutter, and Paul smirked again at the praise. "I've been wanting you for so long, Paul. Such a distracting little thing, you are, sitting there at the back of my class, always staring at me with those pretty eyes of yours. Did you think I hadn't noticed? I've been wondering what this would be like. And now... god, I can't wait to be inside of you."

"P-please, sir," Paul moaned out with a sigh, wrapping his legs around his teacher's waist and pulling him closer. So wanton. George was more than happy to comply to him for once, the boy not having asked anything of him yet. He deserved a reward for being such a good and obedient boy. Although, it certainly did help their wants and needs were aligned at this moment, George had to admit. He allowed his hands to travel up the boy's slender legs, pulling at the flesh as he admired them, taking in every little curve and muscle, until his fingers wrapped around the boy's skinny hips, roughly pulling him down to him, and causing the boy to groan in pleasure as he surrendered to him, allowing him complete control. George hummed in approval and gave a little experimental thrust with his hips against Paul's arse, moaning as his bare cock rubbed the rough material of his uniform. His fingers moved up higher, sliding up his sides where they lingered for a moment, before they moved to his chest, this thumbs finding the boy's erect nipples through the material of his white shirt. The boy groaned as George rubbed at them, rolling the cute little nips around with his thumbs and occasionally pinching them, loving how sensitive he was.

"M... Mr.... Mr Harrison, please..." Paul moaned as his eyes fluttered close, his head lolling from side to side in both arousal and frustration. It was a gorgeous sight to behold.

"What is it, love?" George asked, and his student growled back in frustration, arching his back up into the touch of George's fingers on his nipples, which never did more than tease him.

"P-please, sir..." Paul practically begged, being so far done already. The poor lad.

"What do you want, love. Tell me."

"Sir," Paul all but wailed, and George knew he wasn't being fair. He knew what the boy craved, could see the bulge clearly in his pants, but he wanted to hear him say it. He wanted to watch as his luscious lips would form the words, wanted to hear his wrecked voice utter it, a phrase so obscene he wouldn't be able to look at him again without picturing him saying it, begging him to do it.

"Say it, Paul. I want to hear you say it," George demanded in a gentle voice, and Paul bit his lip, his cheeks burning with embarrassment, but when George rocked his hips into him again, he gasped.

"Oh god... Please, sir. F-f-fuck m-me! Oh, fuck me! I... I need you inside me, sir. Please!" he begged prettily, and George drank in the sight of him mouthing those words, before he leaned in and captured the boy's lips with his own for a heated kiss to reward him, feeling how much the boy's body shook.

"Good boy, Paul. Such a good boy, you were. You did so well, my pretty boy. It's okay. I've got you. I'll give you what you need," George muttered against his lips, and Paul nodded eagerly at that. Not wanting to wait any longer, George pulled away from his student and lowered his hands to the buttons of the lad's trousers. He swiftly undid them, ripping them from their loopholes, before he shoved the boy's trousers down, pulling his underwear down with them. His cock popped free, beautifully erect and already dripping. George fought the urge to lean in and lap it all up, having made the boy wait for long enough. He knelt down to take Paul's trousers off completely and threw them and his underwear aside. He didn't bother with the boy's shoes, and left them on as he got back up, gripped Paul's slender thighs and wrapped his legs around him. Paul was breathing heavily as he watched him through half-lidded eyes, looking so utterly wrecked and wanton, George would have loved to just slam into him dry. But he didn't. He didn't want to hurt his angel, after all.

"Open up," he ordered instead, and slowly Paul parted his lips for him and opened his mouth, despite looking unsure. George didn't bother to explain, and merely forced two of his fingers down his throat, causing the boy to gag and coat his fingers with thick saliva.

"Lick them. Nice and wet. You want this," George said, and Paul nodded - or tried to - and closed his eyes as he started licking at the fingers in his mouth, doing what George had asked him to do. When George pulled them out, they were dripping wet, a long line of saliva still connecting his fingers to Paul's red and abused mouth. He chuckled at the sight, and kissed Paul again as he guided his fingers between the boy's legs, past his cock, where he found the boy's twitching rim. He circled it once or twice, before he gently started pushing one in. Paul tensed up at the intrusion, the feeling being odd and uncomfortable, but when George started caressing his thighs to sooth him, he relaxed a little.

"Just relax, Paul. You're doing well. It will feel better in a moment. I promise, I'll make you feel good. Just try to relax for me, okay?" George muttered as he broke the kiss, his lips moving to kiss along the boy's jaw to his ear, to his neck, peppering him with kisses to distract him from the feeling of his finger forcing its way into his arse. Paul nodded in reply and took a few deep breaths as he tried to obey.

Paul was incredibly tight around his finger, his arse gripping him hard, but it only felt better because of it. He was hot and velvety soft on the inside, leaving George impatient to get inside of him, wanting to feel him around his cock and hear him moan. He curled up his finger inside of him, and started searching around for that one spot that would make Paul feel good. It wasn't just about him, after all. It took him a while, but once he finally found it, Paul gasped in pleasure and his eyes went wide with surprise.

"Oh, that's-" Paul started, but was quickly cut off by George pressing down onto his prostate again.

"Good?" George filled in for him, and Paul could only nod as he started pushing back on the finger inside of him, wanting more. George chuckled at the sight, holding his finger still and watching in amazement as Paul fucked himself onto his finger, simply taking what he wanted. Feeling his own cock give a helpless twitch in return, George added a second finger, pushing it in alongside the first and watching as Paul's hole opened up for him. The boy whined in discomfort for a moment, but didn't stop moving, which George took as a good sign. He scissored his fingers inside the young boy, stretching him and opening him up for something much bigger. He hadn't planned on adding any more fingers, but Paul still felt so tight, that he pulled his fingers out - much to Paul's disappointment - and forced them back between Paul's lips, this time adding a third. Paul started sucking immediately, as if he didn't even care those fingers had been in his arse not moments ago, and George almost came on the spot.

"Such a filthy slut," he muttered softly, almost affectionately, and made Paul gag on his fingers once more, before he pulled them back out and slammed them back inside Paul's opening, all three at once, the rim stretching tight to accommodate him. Paul nearly screamed at the sudden feeling of both pain and pleasure at being filled so completely, but George silenced him by wrapping his other hand over the boy's mouth. He fucked the boy with his fingers, all the while staring him in the eye, and pressed down mercilessly on his prostate, liking the look of utter surprise on the boy's face, those pretty girly features scrunched up in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Finally, George couldn't hold out any longer, and pulled his hand back, replacing his finger with his cock almost immediately, giving Paul no time to breathe.

"Oh fuck, you're tight," George moaned as he forced his cock into Paul's pliant body. Paul gasped at the feeling of George's hot cock inside of him, and cocked his head back in pleasure as George started to move. He started slowly, wanting to savour the feeling of being inside his (illegal) student. His hands grabbed Paul's hips tightly, his nails digging into his flesh as he took him, fucking him with long and easy strokes. Paul moaned out in pleasure, his hands gripping at the desk as he let his teacher use him, enjoying every second of it. For George, it was better than anything he had ever imagined.

"Feels good?" George asked, already out of breath and Paul nodded eagerly.

"Yes, sir. Feels so good. Please... Don't stop." George grinned at that last.

"Wasn't planning on it, love," he said, and with that, he sped up his thrusts, going faster and deeper as he savoured the continuous stream of moans that came out of Paul's open mouth, his body rocking back and forth on the desk, causing it to move with them. The boy looked positively blissful.

"So pretty, my boy. You look so pretty while you're getting fucked. Like a perfect little slut," George couldn't help but mutter. The boy smiled at the praise and forced himself to open his eyes to look at the other man, holding his gaze with his own and watching the other man move on top of him, fucking himself in and out of his body, taking the pleasure Paul was willing to give him. Slowly, Paul started moving with him, rocking back onto his teacher's dick as his eyes lolled back in his head, the pleasure quickly becoming too much. George couldn't say he was doing much better.

"You gonna come for me, love?" George asked, cursing when Paul nodded, arching his back up in pleasure.

"So close, Mr Harrison. I can feel it. I just need... I need... Oh fuck," he moaned, and moved one hand from the desk to his crotch, his fingers wrapping themselves around his dripping erection, gasping at the sudden relief he felt at the touch alone. George growled at the sight of the boy touching himself, and that combined with the formal name that fell from the boy's lips, made him slap his hand away.

"Let me," he more demanded than asked, and Paul managed to force his hand away to grip the desk again, holding on as his teacher's thrusts grew more violent. George quickly took over from him, taking the boy's erection in his hand, and feeling his own cock twitch inside Paul at the feeling of a cock in his hand. Paul was small, even while hard, but for George it only turned him on more, the size making the difference in age seem even greater. He timed his strokes with the rhythm of his trusts, allowing Paul to fuck into his hand as he fucked himself onto his dick. The expression on his face looked almost pained as his orgasm drew near, so George kissed him, grabbing his chin forcefully with his other (spit slick) hand and forced their lips together. The boy groaned in his mouth and George felt the boy's body shudder against him, as he felt Paul's dick give a twitch, before a warm liquid drizzled over his fist. He fucked Paul through it, savouring the feeling of Paul's body against his and the sounds of him moaning as his orgasm ripped through him.

"God, sir..." Paul moaned as their kiss broke and his orgasm ebbed away from him, his own hands now coming up to grip at the older man's body, pulling him close to him as he buried his face in his shoulder and angled his hips up, telling the man wordlessly to go on. George didn't need to be told twice, he grabbed his thighs and hauled them higher up, giving him a better angle to thrust at and chased his own orgasm, purposefully avoiding Paul's prostate, which he knew would be highly sensitive. Not long after, though, he cursed into the boy's hair and came, spilling his seed into Paul, who squirmed at the strange feeling.

George held still inside him for a while after it had past, catching his breath, before he gently pulled out of the trembling boy in his arms. When he looked down and saw how utterly wrecked he looked, he smiled down at him and kissed him, cradling the boy's cheek in his hand as their tongues curled together. When he pulled away, Paul let out a giggle.

"What?" George asked with an affectionate smile, liking how happy the boy looked.

"Nothing," Paul said as he shook his head. "Just feels weird." He nodded into the direction of his lower body and George laughed himself as he realised what he was talking about.

"You'll get used to it," he said, and Paul cocked his head to the side as he licked his lip.

"I'd like to get used to it," he replied, his voice suggestive and George blinked down at him a few moments as his brain worked hard to let that get through to him. In the end, he coughed awkwardly and got off the young boy, offering him his hand to help him up as well. Paul took it and winced as he came to sit on the desk.

"You should get dressed. We've been locked in here long enough," he said, and Paul nodded as he got onto his feet. He held himself steady by resting with one hand on the desk as he looked for his clothes. He blushed as he felt some cum drizzle down his legs. George noticed and got him a handkerchief to clean himself. Paul accepted it eagerly and started cleaning himself, trying not to blush as George watched him while he zipped himself back up. Once Paul was clean again, George took the now dirty handkerchief back and stuffed it in his pocket. He continued watching as Paul pulled his pants and trousers back on, and straightened out his shirt and tie, before slipping back into the blazer of his uniform. Although his clothes were rumpled, it didn't look as bad as George had thought.

"You know, Paul," he said once Paul was fully dressed again. "I won't fail you for next week's test." The boy turned to look at him with surprise, his hands which had been fixing his hair stilling.

"You won't?" he asked in disbelief, and George shook his head as he sat down in his chair and beckoned Paul closer to him. When he was close enough, he pulled him to sit in his lap, legs on either side of him as he faced him. The boy blushed, but didn't pull away. Even when George lowered one of his hands to his arse and squeezed.

"We both know you can't learn everything in one week and since it was partly my fault that you couldn't focus, it would seem unfair if you failed, so I will give you a B no matter how badly you do," George said, raising his other hand to stroke Paul's cheek.

"Why, thank you, sir," Paul said with a wide smile of relief, and George smiled at him.

"Under one condition," he added, and Paul swallowed thickly at that, but nodded.

"You will not tell anyone about this, and we will make this a regular thing," George said, watching his student's face closely, but it was unreadable. Paul parted his lips, wanting to say something, but not a word left his mouth.

"What do you say, Paul? Would you like that? Being the teacher's pet?" George asked with a wink and finally a little smirk appeared on the boy's lips, and not a second later he nodded.

"Gladly, sir," he said, and moaned into his teacher's mouth as George kissed him.