This is actually the first smut I've ever written, and it was technically for a friend of my who does, in fact, fancy our former teacher and current band if things are a little off, it's because it was originally het and I didn't wanna change the story too much so crappy editing is crappy...that and I don't know much about male sex, despite my love of lemons.

Enjoy, you sick, lovely fellow pervs. :3

"Oh, really? Dammit...," you sigh, tucking your phone back into your pocket. Your mom's text said that she couldn't pick you up since the Pep Band game ran late, and now you had to find a ride home. Sliding your instrument into it's locker, you wonder briefly if you can bum a ride off of your friend Gilbert before you turn around and almost collide into someone.

"That's certainly a filthy mouth there Alfred," a playful, familiar English accent rings out. Almost immediately you feel your body freeze, pressed slightly against his from your almost collision and your mind goes blank. The voice is one you recognize, a deep, husky tone that you often fantasize about saying quite 'filthier' things and sometimes even screaming out in pleasure and ecstasy you only wish you could give to him.

But you can't, because the voice belongs to your director. The blankness of your mind begins to show as you end up acting just like the crushing schoolboy you are, playfully swatting his slender shoulder with your hand.

"Oi Mr. Kirkland, you know me. I'm usually not this bad," you chuckle, your mind thinking of the innuendo he's sure to miss. You look up to meet his gaze and almost regret the decision. His face is close, so close you can almost reach up and touch him. But before you get lost in the intensity of his eyes he speaks again, this time in a much lower tone intended only for you.

"You're right. So what's wrong? Do you need a ride?" Only for a moment do you consider the misuse of the word 'ride.'

"Yeah," you sigh exasperatedly, "My mom just told me she can't get back in time to pick me up." You tear your gaze away from him to see that most of your friends have left. It's the middle of December, and you certainly can't walk home in the dark with all this snow. Even if it weren't dark and a blizzard outside, you'd left in such a rush that you'd forgotten any type of coat. So basically, you're royally scr-

"Since I'm not technically your teacher, there's no legality issues if...I take you home," he whispers lowly, his warm breath blowing against the shell of your ear. The sudden heat and the huskiness to his tone run chills down your spine and you shiver against him, despite the body heat you can feel radiating off of him. You swallow thickly, vaguely attempting to clear the steamy images from your head and convince yourself that no, your incredibly sexy teacher is not trying to make a pass at you, you're just subject to wishful thinking. He's playing around. Yeah, that's it. Taking a deep breath, you move a step back from him and you instantly miss his heat, but you know it's for the best if you wish to keep your oxygen and mind steady. You grin at him though, regardless, because you know he just saved your ass from walking home in the raging storm outside.

"That'd be totally awesome of you Mr. Kirkland!" You watch him blink for a moment, seemingly surprised, before he gives you a polite nod and tells you that he'll go warm his car up while you gather your things.

"Oh and Alfred, call me Arthur, it isn't like I'm working or we're strangers." Quickly, almost too quickly, he's gone, and you can breathe normally again. Sighing, you rub the heel of your palm against your forehead as you stuff your various sheets of music into your bag. You really have to get it together. He used to be your teacher, and he's still a great deal older than you. It's highly illegal, and besides, he could never love you when he could have almost anyone he wanted. This man has basically been with you your entire life, teaching, and so maybe he favored you a little bit. He disliked you just as much though. A bittersweet smile works its way onto your face as you sling the bag on your shoulder and walk to the door. Your moments alone and your more rational thoughts have sobered you up rather well, and that's good, despite the familiar ache you now feel in your heart.

In the darkness you can clearly see the headlights of his car on, waiting for you out front. Repeating the same phrase in your head, stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, you reach a shaking hand to the door handle and pop it open, keeping yourself from even glancing at his face as you slide into the seat. Even though you aren't looking, you can tell that he's smiling at you as he pulls away from the school. The drive is relatively quiet; the radio is on low and putting out some Christmas carols as per usual this time of year. He isn't talking to you just yet, and you don't trust yourself to say anything at all.

"Do you mind if we make a stop by my house first?" At first you blink, he lives a good half hour away at the least, and it's late as it is. But you realize that Arthur's being generous enough to give you a ride home and save you from the freezing cold and wind, so you nod slowly before you recognize that it's too dark for him to see and that you're going to have to speak.

"No," you squeak, "that's fine." A pleased hum vibrates in his throat, and the noise makes you squirm. This will be one uncomfortable car ride, you think as you press your trembling thighs together.

"So, what happened? Isn't your mum worried about you?" you hear him ask, voice laced with mild concern and something you'd like to think was a bit more devious.

"No, she knows I can take care of myself. She probably just expects me to stay the night at friend's house or something." You take a bit of relief in the knowledge that this isn't, in fact, a lie. Your mom won't be worried if you're home late, or not at all, as long as you call in the morning.

"Well, I suppose it's good that she trusts you. Though she shouldn't trust the rest of the world with a precious lad like you," he muses, turning the keys out of the ignition and putting the car in park. You feel your face flush at the mention of him thinking that you're precious in any way as you blink in wonder, that was one short car ride. Are you here already, really? You look around out the window and you assume so, since you're parked in a wide driveway in front of a cozy looking home. Still shocked by his indirect compliment though, you say nothing while you wait for him to exit the car and retrieve whatever he needed, fidgeting with the edge of the t-shirt you're wearing. But he doesn't open his door. Out of the corner of your eye you see him lean back into the seat, safety belt now unfastened, running a hand over his head and sighing.

"Oh Alfred...," he breathes, sounding distressed. Nervous and confused, you try your voice.

"A-Arthur...?" you stutter. You can feel him look towards you and you brave looking back at him, only to find a hungry glint to his emerald eyes that makes you swallow noisily. He leans in towards you over the middle seat between you and places his hands dangerously close to your leg.

"Alfred. You're a smart boy. I've seen the way you look at me, and I'm sure you can gather what I'm about to do. If I've been wrong or you're uncomfortable, by all means, stop me," he breathes hotly in your ear, making you shiver at both the temperature difference and his words. Flushing a deep red and shocked, you slowly turn your head towards him, both eyebrows arched in confusion and lips parted in a little 'o' of surprise. But before you can question the lack of logic in this situation or even pinch yourself, he's moved his strong hands to either side of your face. And all of a sudden, his lips are against yours, slightly chapped but wonderful nonetheless and warmer than you've ever imagined. You gasp at the contact, sending sparks through you as he gently moves his lips with yours in the darkness of his car.

Your head spins as you stupidly think about this, you're kissing your former teacher in his car. Oh good god.

Then you feel it, hot and wet and sweeping against your bottom lip. His tongue is trying to part your lips, practically begging for entrance that you willingly give to him not a moment later, a soft moan escaping your throat as you feel the warmth invade your mouth. You're highly inexperienced, you know, but the way he's leading and massaging your tongue with his leaves you to simply follow your instincts and his lead as you start tentatively making out with him.

Only when you both need air do you truly part, panting heavily and beginning to steam up the windows of the car. You're struck breathless as he stares hungrily into your eyes, looking positively animalistic directly towards you with his forest green irises piercing into you.

"Oh god...please, please don't make me stop. I don't think I can," he whines breathily, moving his still hot lips to nip and suck at the shell of your ear as his hand rubs vigorously up and down the small of your back, the other hand keeping him steady above you. As you feel his teeth against the sensitive flesh you moan loudly, arching your back into him. He smiles against your ear and you flush, thinking that wasn't the correct reaction. You begin to stutter before he cuts you off with a finger to your now slightly swollen lips.

"Oh, you like that?" he teases you, moving his hand lower to firmly squeeze your bottom at the end of his question, eliciting another whine from you.

"Yes," you hiss, "oh god yes Arthur, I do." Your body is absolutely tingling with all the new sensations, his warm rough hands roaming your body and his hot mouth now sucking on your neck. You can feel the blood rushing to your lower region as your pants feel tighter. You begin to claw at his back through his shirt, nails digging into the cloth as you pull him closer, wanting more, wanting all of him.

"God, Arthur, please...," you moan airily, your voiced tinged with desperation. He's driving you crazy and you don't think you can take much more. His lips curve into a smile against your neck before he pulls back just enough to speak hotly on a forming hickey.

"Whatever you say, lad." His breath tickles your neck as he comes back up to reclaim your lips with his in a passionately hot kiss. As your lips mesh together and your tongues battle with each other, slipping and rubbing, you press your hands firmly against his chest and let them wander around his torso. You feel his large hands snake under your shirt, pushing the layers up cautiously as if you might stop him. You have no intention of it and kiss him harder, trying to encourage the stripping. He smiles into your lips slightly, resuming taking off the clothes in a more hurried manner, eager to have the shirts gone. Suddenly you realize that unfortunately, he too is still wearing a shirt, and your hands move from his still clothed chest to fumble with the ends of it. Your lips part as he pulls your layers over your head and he smirks, taking your smaller hands in his and pulling the shirt off for you.

"You're so beautiful, Alfred...," he gasps, breathless. It's suddenly colder in the car without your shirt on, but your body and the air is so hot it's a not exactly unwelcome. Arthur groans with want and pulls you onto his lap, pressing you as close to him as humanly possible, hands cupping your ass. You wriggle against his hold, relishing the feel and unconsciously grinding against him.

"Oh god...," he mumbles, rolling his hips up for more friction. Suddenly you feel a bit more brave, being able to get a noise of pure want and need like that from him, and you lean in closer, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

"You like that, Arthur?" you ask, voice low and dripping with playful sexiness against his neck as you grind against him once more. The action earns you another airy moan, him thrusting his hips up at you in desperation and taking one hand to grab your chin and slam his lips on yours in a frenzied heat of need. You moan into the kiss, pressing your body up against his torso and continuing to grind into him with a steady rhythm. Feeling his lips tremble against yours, Arthur's hands travel down your sides sensually and stop when he reaches the cloth of your jeans. His thumbs stroke the fabric as you continue to make out and you whine into his mouth again, you want more friction too. You can feel a hardness beginning to prod at your thigh and it's driving you crazy with want.

"Let me take them off, please," he begs against your bruised and swollen lips, indicating to your pants with the impatient tapping of his fingers against the fabric. Before you can even process the request you feel yourself nod vigorously. His mouth moves to the visible area of your chest now, pressing hot open mouthed kisses to the tender flesh as his fingers work the button and zipper. The contact is sudden and overwhelmingly pleasant as you arch into his kisses and cry out softly. Your nails dig into his back again, leaving claw marks as you feel him lift up your hips and tug the pants off.

"God...Alfred...fuck...," he mutters incoherently, eyes raking your body up and down. The hardness you felt pressed into your thigh stiffens more and you moan wantonly into the heated air, making you throb with desire too. God do you want him.

His large, work worn hands reach up to cup your buttocks and knead them, much to your liking. He smirks deviously and leans in, pressing kisses on your abs and making you moan again, arching into his touch. Your hands fly up to his head and press it into your stomach, making sure he doesn't stop as he moves the other hand to teasingly rub the pad of his thumb over a rapidly hardening nipple.

"Arthur, please...," you beg breathily, not even sure what you're begging for. But you want more, now. He gives in to your demand easily, moving his hand out of the way and rubbing his hot tongue around the other nipple, sucking lightly and making the most vulgar wet noises that should not have turned you on as much as it did. Your underwear are visibly straining by now, you know, and you can feel wetness leaking from your erection. His free hand slips down the curve of your back and under the waist of your boxers, squeezing the sensitive skin beneath his strong hands. A high pitched whine escapes your throat, and you can feel him throb beneath you.

You take your hands and push against his chest, moving him away from you as he groans in protest. Admittedly, you miss his hot mouth against you but you reason with yourself that what's to come is much better. You maneuver yourself off of his lap and push him down slightly, having him lie across the seat and set to working at getting that damned belt and those pants off. A gasp comes from him as you brush your hands above the bulge in his pants on your way to the belt, and you smirk.

He's left the underwear on for both of you, though you can clearly see that he's as aroused as you are by the tent in his boxers. Smiling deviously, you take your hands and pull down the waistband, taking care not to put too much friction on his cock as you pull the fabric up over it. A hiss of pleasure passes his lips as the cool air hits his heated member, standing erect and deep red, positively throbbing with want.

"Alfred...please...," he begs beneath you, and the lust in his voice sends shivers down your spine. You've never done any of this before, so your nerves are wracking, but you think back to what your friend Gilbert's described to you and cautiously try that out.

You bend over, bracing yourself with one hand on his taut thigh, and you wrap your free hand around the pulsating flesh at it's base. For a moment you look up to see his reaction, to make sure you're doing it correctly, and from the look of pleasure on his features, you must be. Squeezing slightly, you slowly move your hand up and down the shaft, enjoying the moans and incoherent string of curses falling from his lips. At the end of a stroke, you reach your thumb up and tantalizingly slow you caress the tip, spreading the sticky clear pre-cum around the head. He bucks his hips up towards you, wanting more, and you're more than willing.

Curving your body more to get a better angle, you dip your head down between his legs and lazily lick the base of his cock, just to tease. Arthur moans again, desperately thrusting his hips for more. You begin to press open mouthed kisses to the shaft, sucking a bit wherever your mouth makes contact in an erratic up and down pattern that you can tell is driving him closer to the edge if his crazed pleas and needy noises are anything to go by. Pulling back you gently kiss the swollen tip, flicking your tongue out to trace around it as Arthur bucks some more.

"Oh god, Alfred...," he moans, voice rich with crazed desperation. He needs you and you know it. Taking a deep breath and remembering the advice your fellow section member gave you, you curl your left thumb into your fist and open your mouth to take in his throbbing length. Above you, you hear Arthur slap a hand over his mouth to muffle a cry and you can't help but be a little pleased with yourself. You suck him a little, the feeling of him pulsing in your mouth going straight down south. Bobbing your head up and down, you press your tongue to his cock to add to his pleasure, swirling it and sucking alternatively.

And suddenly he's pulling you back off of that wonderful cock of his and you whine, disappointed. He laughs at your antics and cups your cheek gently.

"If you continued I'd cum in your mouth, and I'd much rather fuck you," the words roll off his tongue like some romantic foreign language, and you shiver in delight. God, are you ready for that. Using his large hands Arthur flips your positions so that you're virtually pinned beneath him, not that you mind. His hands stop at your boxers, and he gives you a questioning look.

"If I take them off, I won't be able to stop. Are you sure you want to go this far?" Reaching up, you place a hand on his chest affectionately and stroke your thumb across his skin.

"Take them off," you respond oh so eloquently. Smiling hungrily, he obeys your command, thankfully not commenting on how wet they are as he leans down to kiss you again. You can feel his manhood slick and throbbing against the inside of your thigh, so close to where you really want it and yet not close enough. You roll your hips up against him as his tongue rubs against yours, and he matches your hips with thrusts of his own. His hand travels up your thigh and finally, finally between them as he rubs his thumb up and down over your slit, eliciting a high pitched moan through your kiss. The friction creates an explicitly wet noise that again turns you on more than it should, but at this point, who's complaining?

"Arthur...please...," you breathe against his lips. You can't take much more of his teasing. Your thighs are quivering with anticipation and you just want him inside you. His wet finger slips into your entrance and you gasp in surprise. You'd never known just how big his fingers were until you had one thrusting in and out of you, clenching yourself around the digit as it stretches you. He groans above you, his dick jerking against your thigh.

"God, you're so tight around just one finger...," his voice is low and husky and good god does it turn you on more. He slides another finger in, slowly, starting to stretch his fingers out inside to prepare you for his fully erect and swollen cock. Again you feel yourself clench around him, the pain completely cancelled out by the pleasure and want you're subject to.

"Please, Arthur, please," you hear yourself whisper in the air, an edge of craziness in your voice. He gives in to you, pulling his fingers out and placing his hands on either of your hips. Leaning down, he nibbles at your earlobe again, flicking his tongue out around it as he lines himself up to your entrance. The tip is pressed against the sensitive flesh and you can feel it pulsing against your hot hole. Moaning with need you buck your hips down to his member, trying to remind him that you want him inside, now.

"I'm sorry." His voice is laced with a faint trace of regret as he captures your mouth again, proceeding to slam his hips into your core, his soft lips silently repeating his apology in a more gentle kiss. You're adjusting to his massive length, feeling him throb and twitch inside you. Soon the feeling gets to you past the pain and you groan, pushing against him and wordlessly begging that he just move. He happily indulges you, pulling out slowly until only the head is in, then tightening his grip on your hips, rams himself back inside as you cry out in delight. His mouth moves away from yours now, heading a bit south as he returns to your nipples to tease them again. You aren't sure how he's rocking his hips so sensually and simultaneously working his tongue like that, so hot and wet and wonderful but you're far from questioning something that feels so good.

"'re so tight...fuck...," he pants, unable to say much more. You wrap your arms around his neck in response, lifting your legs as well so they can wrap around his torso. The new angle hits a new spot and you scream out in ecstasy.

"Yes! Oh god, fuck me Arthur please! Harder!" you cry, thrusting your hips downward in time with him. You love the sensations you're receiving, of being so full and being able to feel each throb of his cock inside you as he thrusts, his hot tongue positively torturing you, his hands squeezing your hips. He listens to your plea and pounds into you harder, speeding up as well. Now the air is filled with the sound of the wet slap of skin against skin and it couldn't be hotter.

He finds that spot inside you again and you howl in delight, getting pushed closer and closer to the edge. You can feel him smirk against your chest as he lightly pulls a nipple between his teeth, his hot panting breath creating the best heat against your exposed chest. Now Arthur's found that magic angle, and he's keeping it, ramming into your tight heat and repeatedly striking that wonderful spot, making you gasp and claw at his back in desperation, tightening your legs around his waist and pulling him in deeper towards that spot. You can feel yourself clenching around his hot, pulsating cock and it occurs to you that you suddenly feel overwhelmed with heat. You can't take much more.

His thrusts are becoming erratic and frenzied with an increasing intensity and you can tell he's close to the edge too. The tip of him keeps striking that spot, and the hot slapping of skin, the tongue working against your breast, and Arthur's deviously sexy moans finally throw you over the edge with a loud scream of his name and a string of curses.

You tighten around him like never before and you feel it, the hot liquid rushing out of you and flowing over him in patches of white. The release feels wonderful and you're pleased when he pounds into you only a few more times before cumming himself. He spills into you, hot and wet as your name falls from his lips and his hold on you tightens before relaxing almost completely. He props himself up on an elbow, still hovering above you as you both pant, trying to come down from your post-orgasmic haze.

"Arthur...that was...," you try, speechless. It was amazing, there was no other way to describe it. A breathless chuckle comes from him as he gently kisses you.

"Yeah, it was pretty amazing...," he rasps, still lacking the proper air he needs. "How about...we go inside and get cleaned up, huh? It's late...and you can just sleep with me, how's that sound?" A smile finds it's way onto your face.

"A little late to be asking that question," you quip. You both laugh and he stares into your eyes for a few moments, probably only a few heartbeats but feeling like wonderful years to you.

"You know," he begins playfully, "I really didn't need to stop here. I just wanted an excuse to have you to myself." A flush paints itself on your cheeks. You really had no idea when you first listened to his request, but thinking back on it, it did seem a little odd to stop at his house at around midnight.

"Well...," you muse towards him, not bothering to reprimand him at all for his behavior seeing as you enjoyed it too, "you certainly have me all to yourself. But I believe there's a shower waiting for us, hmmm?" He recognized the lust in your voice and that hungry smile is back. You smirk as he sits up with renewed vigor and grabs your hand.

"Believe me, you have no idea." He's bounding out of the car, still stark naked in the middle of December and dragging you along with him. You're thrown over his shoulder with a squeak, and before you know it he's carrying you into his house, practically running for the shower.

Oh the joys of shower sex.

You'd have to make sure to explain how wonderful it could be to your friend Gilbert.