He really gave it his all.
Ever since the last blowjob, he's been messaging on Line every day like he's on steroids:
'Teacher, I practiced two more math sheets today'
'I rewrote all the wrong questions three times'
'I'll definitely score above 90 on tomorrow's quiz, teacher, you have to be prepared'
I just replied with a mischievous smile emoji + 'Then it depends on your performance~'
That evening after the exam, he directly sent over a screenshot of his score.
91 points.
Followed by a row of shaking sticker figures kneeling in worship, super childish.
The next day I wore a low-cut lace skirt with over-the-knee boots, he started sweating in his palms as soon as he entered the door, didn't even put down his backpack and said:
'Teacher... I-I got 91... can, can I directly...'
I pretended to be serious, sat at the desk, patted the chair next to me:
'Don't be hasty. First take out the questions you got wrong last time, teacher needs to check if you really understand.'
He looked disappointed but didn't dare to resist, obediently sat down, and spread out his exam paper and workbook.
I leaned over, pretending to seriously look at the questions, but my hand directly reached under the table into his inner thigh, slowly touching upwards through his sweatpants.
He froze instantly, almost dropping his pen.
'Keep writing,' I whispered in his ear, 'With a score of 91, you shouldn't get stuck on this kind of question, right?'
He blushed, his voice trembling: 'Te-teacher... I can't write like this...'
'If you can't write, I'll make you retake it until you get 60, okay?' I said with a smile, my fingers already hooked into his waistband, directly gripping that thing which was already hard and hot through his underwear.
He gasped, his whole body arched forward, the pen tip drawing a long crooked line on the paper.
I started to stroke slowly up and down, not fast, but with just the right pressure to make him tremble with pleasure without finishing too soon.
'First question, solve it,' I rested my chin on his shoulder, my tone like coaxing a child, 'Wrong one and I'll stop for ten seconds, got it?'
He bit his lower lip, forcing himself to write, his hand shaking so much the formulas were almost crooked.
I deliberately sped up when he was halfway through,