Buffy Beaten update

While Giles was christening his Toyota with Ampata’s help, Xander had been unable to get women out of his head, and unable to go back to jerking off after all the craziness he’d had with the same women he was thinking of. It would seem like a step back. A surrender. So instead he’d pored over his biology textbook, bone-dry reading, and found himself shockingly attentive to it. 

Now, a day later, Xander was bent over his biology exam like a medieval monk transcribing a sacred text. Miss French had sprung it on him, a pop quiz, and for once, Xander knew every answer. It was a thing of beauty. He could’ve kissed her.

Not that she was in range. Miss French, at the moment, was walking between the desks of her biology classroom, making sure not one word passed from Student A to Student B. She stopped, standing behind Xander—making him feel like he was reading a nudie magazine instead of simply taking a test like he was class valedictorian. Still, he could feel Miss French’s eyes on him, taking an interest in him… an interest that wasn’t entirely unreturned. Xander could just picture her seeing him marking each correct answer, feeling she’d misjudged him, admitting that he was pretty smart actually, mature for his age…

Miss French leaned over his shoulder as if for a closer look at his paper and her plump breasts touched the back of his neck. 

Xander tensed, feeling her stiff nipples—and they were stiff—brush against him. Then he blushed. Miss French probably didn’t even know she was doing it, her mind wandering or something. Was he supposed to bring it up? His fevered brain flashed from one fantasy to another. He should say nothing, let her keep touching him. No, say something clever. He couldn’t think of anything clever. He could lean forward… no, he couldn’t, he didn’t dare to end this contact a second before its time…

Then Miss French stopped. She straightened and walked right by Xander. As she walked away, Xander stared at her ass. He could see her creamy buttocks bulging through her tight skirt, the indentation of the valley between her asscheeks as her skirt clung tightly to the curve of her ass. His cock gave a lurch. God, he didn’t know what he wanted more, her ass or her tits.

Xander blushed wildly, ashamed to be getting an erection not one day after he’d last gotten hard at school. What was he supposed to do, jerk off again? That was really tempting fate. He was all pent up too. He hadn’t jacked off at home and now he was full up. His cock hardened and rose, trying to escape his jeans while his balls ballooned against his fly. Xander’s hand darted down to pluck at the crotch of his pants and rearrange himself. He was in luck—instant relief. Then he looked down and saw the huge bulge now running down one leg of his tight jeans. The outline of his erection was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Xander panicked. He was trapped. The test would be over soon and he’d have to bring his answer sheet to the head of the class. No using his backpack to hide his disgrace. 

While sweat ran in bullets down Xander’s brow, Miss French curled gracefully onto her desk. Looking out the window, and looking worthy of having a portrait painted of her in that stance, Miss French drew one leg up, her knee bent. She shifted around, getting comfortable, and managed to slide the hem of her skirt up her luscious thighs. Like it was an accident.

Xander gaped at her, unable to look away. His eyes bulged and his jaw went slack. Miss French wasn’t wearing panties this time. Her pussy was neatly shaven, showing nothing but glossy pink perfection: pure smooth, shuddering pussy just begging to be touched. Xander felt his head spin. He just knew that the blood rushing into his mammoth erection had been earmarked for his brain. She was leaving him brain dead, a vegetable. Maybe that was what coma patients thought about all day. Pussy.

Miss French gave a sideways glance to Xander, smiling at his reaction to her. She thinks I’ve finished my test, Xander thought. He was, unsurprisingly, completely wrong. She thinks I aced it. She thinks I’m her prize student. She has no idea she’s getting me so turned on that my hose is going to run all the way down into my sock!

Looking out the window again, Miss French wiggled into a still more comfortable pose. She arched her back, thrusting out her breasts. The sight of their stiff-nippled push out of her blouse pulled Xander’s eyes away from her pussy, then they sank back down like quicksand. She was wet.

Xander’s cock pounded frantically inside his jeans. His whole body shook. His desk vibrated around him. He set his hands down, palm flat on top of his desk to stop the motion. His cock jumped. He felt like he was going to cream his pants. He was actually tempted to. It would be goddamn embarrassing, but so would being seen with a hard-on the size of Florida. And if he came, at least he’d have that one perfect moment of release to console him. Looking at Miss French, it’d be as close as a guy like him could ever get to making it with a Perfect Ten like her. 

Miss French tugged the hem of her skirt down a little and Xander exhaled in relief—deliver us from motherfucking temptation, he thought. Then Miss French scratched lightly at her sleek inner thigh, drawing her skirt back up again—higher than ever. She smiled and Xander could’ve sworn she was enjoying how much she was turning him on. 

Miss French got up then—Xander saw her arousal glistening on her inner thighs before she straightened, her skirt falling back down to her knees. She walked down the rows to Xander and he could swear he heard her cunt moistly moving with every step she took. With her round ass swinging sensually, Miss French stopped by his desk. 

“Finished?” she asked him in a sultry whisper that had nothing to do with concern for the students trying to focus.

“No—I mean—yes—yeah,” Xander stuttered. 

Miss French picked up his test and looked it over, her eyes smoldering as if it were a dessert menu listing the most decadent chocolate indulgences known to man. “Very good, Mr. Harris. See me after class.”

She turned on her heel, walked back to the front of the class, and turned to face the students. Her skirt ran from her waist to her knees, totally concealing her, but Xander knew how wet she was underneath, how bare. It felt unspeakably dirty to look at her and know she was turned on beneath her stern exterior. His cock pumped dryly, ejaculation not yet loaded, but he felt a distinct tap of wetness where his tip met his underwear. At any other time, at any other place, that would be a clear signal that he needed to go jerk off.

“Is everyone finished?” Miss French asked, Xander’s test hanging at her side. To him, it seemed like no one dared contradict her. Murmurs of assent went up from the whole class. “Excellent,” she purred. “I dismiss you. You may all go enjoy free time until your next class.”

Xander was as stupefied as everyone else, but all he could do was sit there while the other students looked at each other and questioned if they’d heard that right. It was nothing new for a Sunnydale High class to have free time, but that usually meant sitting at your desk and reading. You didn’t just get to wander the halls on your teacher’s say-so.

And yet, that was apparently exactly what Miss French meant. “What are you, cattle? Go get something to eat, or use the restroom, or go to the library. There’s no need for you to be here; I have work to do.”

They might have needed to be told twice, but not a third time. Afraid to break the spell, the class picked up their things and left as orderly as a fire drill.

Xander stayed frozen in place.

When everyone had gone, Miss French went to the door. She closed it. The sound of it shutting seemed very loud. Then she went to a desk in the first row and, to Xander’s astonishment, sat facing him, showing off her cunt once more. Did she know? Could it possibly be on purpose?

“Come here, Mr. Harris.”

There was no way out of facing the music now. With a hangdog expression on his face, Xander pushed himself up and walked toward Miss French, trying to conceal his hard-on by walking with a stoop and his hands in his pockets.

“Straighten up,” Miss French said.

Xander squared his shoulders. His cock bulged undeniably out from his groin. It seemed impossible Miss French could not notice it, but she kept looking him in the eye, her gaze never wandering for a second.

“You struck me as very inattentive in class today, Mr. Harris,” Miss French said. “But from your test results, you clearly know the material. I wonder what the problem is. And how I should deal with this.”

“I don’t know,” Xander mumbled.

“This could become a big issue for you, Mr. Harris. A very big issue. And if you don’t take it in hand, I can only see it getting bigger and bigger and bigger. To the point where I can’t even handle it. I’m only one woman, after all. Do you want my help to handle it?”

“I… don’t know…” Xander repeated sullenly. Inwardly, he was amazed. He was absolutely terrified, yet it wasn’t diminishing his arousal one bit. His cock pumped stronger than ever, like it was trying to get Miss French’s attention.

Miss French stared. Then, to his horror, her eyes slowly lowered down his body. If she’d looked up, she would’ve seen absolute terror on Xander’s face, like no vampire or demon had ever provoked, but looking down, she saw his erection, retaining every inch of its engorged length. In fact, it swelled more proudly under her gaze, as if by looking at it she was caressing him, stroking his erection to a still greater size.