Detention Distraction

Aderes Quin spots Tyler Cruise back in detention and nearly drops her pen. The poor kid looks like someone ran over his shoes. She leans over the desk, eyebrows lifted, and goes straight for the pitch. "College isn’t going to wait, you know. You blinked and the syllabus turned into thirty chapters you never cracked." Tyler shrugs, face blank, mutters that his girlfriend just dumped him and school feels pointless. Aderes tucks a stray lock behind her ear, fights a smirk, then says she knows a study trick guaranteed to clear his head. She closes the classroom door and clicks the lock with theatrical care. The pencil she was holding rolls off the desk. Instead of retrieving it she walks behind his chair and places her hands on his shoulders, thumbs finding the knots. Her blouse brushes his cheek—barely buttoned, and now they’re half-unbuttoned. Tyler swallows. “Step one: stop thinking about her. Step two…” She turns his seat around. Her skirt rides up as she straddles his lap, weight settling in perfect aim. The denim of his jeans is tight, already tented. Aderes rocks her hips once, slow and deliberate, pressing silk panties against that growing ridge. Heat blooms between them. She reaches down, pops his fly, and fishes him out right there, fingers wrapping snug around his hard length. His breath hitches. She smiles like she just won a bet. She lifts, parts damp fabric aside, and sinks onto him in one smooth, greedy drop. Wet heat grips the whole length. For a moment neither moves; both savor the stretch. Then Aderes braces her palms on his chest and rides. Short, tight strokes turn into deeper slides, skin slapping skin each time her ass meets his thighs. The wooden chair creaks an apology to the empty classroom. Tyler’s hands find her waist. He pulls her down harder, meeting each thrust. Slick noises fill the space between them. She leans forward, hair grazing his mouth, and whispers dirty instructions about concentration, homework, and not coming until he names three historical dates. Each grind of her pelvis forces him closer to breaking. When he finally stiffens and spills inside her, she laughs—a short, pleased bark—then kisses his forehead like he just aced a quiz. She rises, a pearl of cum already slipping down the inside of her thigh, and tells him to crack the textbook. They have time for one more round before the bell.