FIC: LIWFY 18/25: All The Education That I've Missed (RPF, Kris/Jake/Reese, NC-17)
All The Education That I've Missed
Kink bingo square: authority figures
RPF. 4000 words. NC-17. Kris/Reese Witherspoon/Jake Gyllenhaal. Also contains: spanking, discipline, voyeurism/exhibitionism, coming untouched
Kris receives an unexpected invitation, and finds the moment of clarity he doesn't know he's been looking for. [Story 18/25 of Life Is Waiting For You.]
It's really sort of been a weird year for him, Kris thinks. His junior year of high school was one of transition too, though, so maybe it's just something about the year. Maybe there's something about being past the beginning, but with the end not quite in sight yet. Kris made a decision near the start of the year that he was just going to take opportunities as they came and it's certainly led him some interesting places.
It's strange to think it's almost over. One more summer. One more year of school. Then he's off into the real world, whatever that means, because unlike half his friends he doesn't think grad school is for him. What would he even do? An MBA? The idea doesn't appeal to him at all. He's not even sure how he's going to be using the degree he's getting already.
He's not even sure he will be using the degree he's already getting.
It's a thought that haunts him as he nurses a coffee in the corner, a copy of Anna Karenina on the table in front of him, not because he's reading it but because Alexis asked him to pick it up from the library for her and he's a real sucker for doing what Alexis asks of him. Now that he's sitting in a coffeeshop with it, it probably looks pretentious.
It's a good spot to people watch, which is about all Kris has the mental ambition for right now. The place is a student haunt, tables mostly filled with books and laptops, a couple pushed together to accommodate a group that's obviously celebrating something though Kris has yet to piece together just what. A well-dressed couple mixes with college girls in ponytails, maybe on their way home from the theatre, or a lecture. An older woman, maybe a professor but probably not, ties up one of the baristas with stories about her grandson.
The door chimes every couple of minutes, and any other day it would be white noise but tonight Kris is quietly watching.
The well-dressed couple sits down in the corner, and Kris smiles when he sees their feet tangle under the table. They've obviously been together a while, but in this one small way they're still like teenagers. He only watches for a little while before forcing himself to look elsewhere, back at the door again or at the endless line of customers streaming through.
It he'd kept watching, he probably would have noticed when they approached his table. At least he notices when they sit down.
"Hi?" he says after a few moments of hesitation.
"Having a good night?" the guy asks him, leaning forward onto the table with a friendly smile on his face.
They both look completely friendly, and in that way it's almost not weird, except that Kris has no idea who they are.
"Yeah, just taking it easy," he says, giving them a nod and wishing there was still coffee in his cup so that he had something to do with his hands.
"I hope you don't mind us joining you," she says. "You didn't seem to be waiting for anyone."
"Yeah, no," says Kris. "I don't have plans. Taking a night off from worrying about finals, unlike my roommates."
"It's always good to take a break," says the guy, leaning back a little and offering his hand. "I'm Jake, and this is Reese."
"Kris Allen," he introduces himself, to be polite. He's always happy to meet people, though they usually don't come join him without warning. "Were you out tonight?"
"Dinner," says Reese. "Sometimes it's nice to treat yourself to something nice. We were just having some coffee afterwards when we saw you sitting over here alone."
"And you felt sorry for me?" says Kris, giving them a crooked and only slightly awkward smile.
"Felt sorry for ourselves, that we weren't already sitting with you," says Reese instead, though. "And thought maybe we'd treat ourselves to something else nice."
He doesn't even know what to say to that so he just keeps smiling at them, and maybe this whole encounter is a little weird but it's making him feel nice. It's making him feel noticed. Noticed with a capital N.
"So this is a shot in the dark," says Jake, "but would you be interested in coming home with us?"
Kris doesn't have to ask for what, but with that question off the table he really has no idea what to say now, or how to answer. He can actually feel his eyes go wider, his mouth drop open a little, but no words come out.
"Just a one-time thing," says Reese, laying it all out for him as Jake continues to give him an easy smile and a hopeful look. "It's just something we like to do sometimes, when the moment and the company seems right. And when we both noticed you from across the room, it seemed right."
"I...wow," says Kris finally. "I just need a second. I've never...."
"We didn't think you had," says Jake, "but we were hoping you might want to. No hard feelings if you don't. We'd be happy to buy you a coffee and go on our way."
"But we'd like it if you gave it a chance," says Reese. "Just sit there and think it over for a minute, we've got plenty of time."
"She gets a little bossy sometimes," whispers Jake, leaning and saying it conspiratorially, as if she can't hear him.
And it's funny that that is what sets off the tingle in Kris's body that convinces him that maybe he should give this a shot. Why not? They're all consenting and he's desirable to them and they're not pinging any of his internal warning signals.
They're watching him, so they watch all of this play out on his face. Kris knows he's expressive, but sometimes he forgets just how much.
"I can be very bossy," agrees Reese, and her smile gets a little bigger when she sees Kris's reaction to that.
"Let me call my roommate to let him know where I'm going," Kris says finally, obviously a yes without actually saying yes.
"We'll even give you the address to give him," says Jake. "We're completely on the up and up. Just...."
"Just a little kinky," says Reese straight up, then smiles and gives him her business card with her name and address printed clearly on it.
"Yeah, me too," says Kris, maybe the first time he's really admitted that out loud like that, and put himself in those terms. He does give Cale a quick call because he's not that reckless, and promises to call again in a few hours if he's not home yet. Neither one of the two of them even bats an eye at him taking precautions.
And when Reese tells him to grab his things and follow them out to their car, Kris knows this might be exactly what he needs tonight, someone to be that little bit bossy with him-or a lot bossy with him-and take some of this weight off his shoulders for a little while.
The car ride isn't tense at all. Reese drives and Jake takes the back seat with him, which seems odd at first until Jake nudges him with his knee and reaches out to playfully read the lines on Kris's palm and Kris realizes that he's putting him at ease. That he wants him to be there and he wants him to want to be there. By the time they arrive at their loft, Kris really does.
"Do you have a safeword that you use?" Jake asks him just before they get there. Loud enough that Reese is a part of the conversation.
"Tennessee," says Kris, "but I'm not really into pain stuff."
"Neither are we," Jake promises him. "It's just in case it gets a little too intense."
Kris isn't sure what that means but he's willing to find out. He doesn't mind intense. In a way, it describes what he's already here looking for.
Jake disappears as soon as they get in, to the bathroom or the bedroom Kris figures, so Reese is the one to show him in and take his coat. Their loft is nice, big and open and clean and bright. It makes him feel comfortable and curious at the same time, because as much as it's a typical urban loft it's also got some décor that he thinks is pretty, well, atypical.
"So how does this work?" says Kris as he looks around. It's still possible this is a terrible idea, but it doesn't seem like a terrible idea. And anyway, he's got his cell phone in his pocket and Cale on speed dial.
"You sit over there," says Reese, using a laser pointer to indicate a lecture hall chair against the wall, one of four. Kris sits down in exactly the one she tells him to, rests his elbow against the tablet desk and waits. That certainly answers that question. "Mr. Gyllenhaal?"
Jake appears a moment later, stripped down from his more formal attire of earlier to just a pair of jeans and sneakers and a loose white shirt buttoned up halfway. He doesn't wait to be told before he sits down in the chair right next to Kris's and slouches down, like a hundred other students Kris has known. It's amazing how he can go from completely put together, like he was in the coffeeshop, to this; it's not just in his clothes but in his entire posture and attitude.
And just like that, Kris knows they've already begun.
"You both know why you're here," she says, making a show of switching the laser pointer off and slipping it back into her pocket. "If you can't keep your hands to yourself in class then you certainly don't deserve the freedom to do it after class either."
Kris swallows hard and finds himself slouching, just like Jake. Who is currently raising his hand.
"Mr. Gyllenhaal?"
"If we can't touch each other, can we touch ourselves?" he says, smirking at her as he runs a hand down towards his groin.
"That's quite enough of that," she says, walking crisply to the office desk against an interior pillar, one that looks like they use it for actual office work, and pulling a ruler out of the top drawer. She snaps it audibly into her opposite hand and Jake's hand freezes where it is.
Kris licks his lips and lets his hand rest on his stomach, just above his groin, and wonders what he needs to do to get a snap of the ruler directed at him.
"Since you boys are so lacking in discipline," she says, heels tapping against the floor as she returns to stand in front of them, "I'm just going to have to teach it to you in a way that you'll understand."
Kris has to bite his lip this time, and just like when he's in class in one of these chairs with the little desk arms he wishes there was a convenient way to hide the fact that he's obviously getting aroused by this. It's a problem he had a lot in freshman year when Lizzie was leading the class.
"Mr. Allen." Kris's head snaps up. "Please remove my shoes."
"I..." says Kris, and she taps her foot impatiently against the floor. He get out of his desk uncertainly and looks at her. "On your knees, Mr. Allen."
Kris drops to his knees in front of her, sitting back on his heels, and she places one foot on his thigh so that he can carefully remove her shoe. Then the other, which he takes even slower, sneaking a feel of her calf as he does. She doesn't react, but she doesn't reprimand him either.
"Very good," she says when he's done, shoes lined up beneath his desk and her stocking feet on the floor in front of him. "Now my stockings."
They're sheer and dark and Kris's fingers tingle as he touches them, tries to figure out how he's supposed to do this.
"Hey, if he doesn't want to do it, I'm game," says Jake from his seat behind him when Kris hesitates.
"Mr. Gyllenhaal," she snaps as Kris begins to push her skirt up. "You did not raise your hand."
Whether Jake raises his hand or not after that, she ignores him and Kris continues to search to figure out just how high those stockings go.
He finds the elastic at mid-thigh, slips his fingertips just under it for a moment while she waits, then instead of pulling it down he starts to roll it, over her thigh, past her knee, and all the way down to her ankle where he waits for her to lift her foot so he can pull it off.
He can't see her face, but likes to think she approves. The second stocking he approaches a little differently, lingers around the top elastic for a moment and explores higher up her leg for a moment, fingers searching eagerly but never going quite far enough, never going there.
He rolls this one off too, moving both hands evenly so that it's a smooth motion all the way to her foot. He sets them aside with her shoes, and just as carefully even though he thinks about leaving them just anywhere and seeing what she does.
"You took some liberties there, Mr. Allen," she says when Kris sits back on his heels again. "On your hands and knees."
That's always been an order that Kris follows without much hesitation no matter where it's coming from. He wouldn't say it's his favorite position, but...okay, yeah, it might be his favorite position. For certain things.
When the ruler first comes down on his backside it's a surprise, but not so much that Kris makes any noise. The second swat he barely reacts to at all, just a gentle sway of his body with the motion of her swing.
"I don't think this is getting through to you, Mr. Allen," she says after the third. "Trousers down." When Kris hesitates for just a moment, not even because he doesn't want to but because he's trying to figure out if she means just his pants or his pants and his underwear, she adds, "Now, Mr. Allen."
He struggles for a moment with his zipper then tugs his pants, and his underwear, down over his ass and to his knees. Any further and he'd have to get up.
When the ruler comes down this time he can definitely feel it. And it's no longer any secret that he's already hard, if it ever even was in the first place.
"You know, I might learn better if you let me hold the ruler once in a while," says Jake.
When the ruler hits him one more time, it's a little bit harder, and he feels like he's getting the punishment for Jake's sass as well as his own liberties. Which he can't say he minds all that much.
"Get up," she says. Kris struggles back to his feet, but when he goes to pull his pants back up she stops him. "You won't be needing those anymore. I have a feeling it's going to take a few tries before this lesson sinks in." So instead of putting them back on Kris takes his pants off, and his shoes and socks, and leaves them in a much messier pile than he left hers.
"Boys," she says, shaking her head at him, but it's an indulgent shake and she nods him back into his desk, the wooden chair harsh against his sore ass. But in kind of a good way.
"Mr. Gyllenhaal," she says, and he positively slinks out of his desk. "My dress."
"Is lovely," he says, and clasps his hands behind his back.
"I think you know what I want you do to," she says, turning slowly around so that the zipper of her dress is facing him. She even lifts her hair to make his task easier. "Do I need to be more explicit?"
"Yes, ma'am, I think you do."
"Remove my dress, Mr. Gyllenhaal," she says, "and don't forget that it's precious."
"I never forget anything you say," he says, and unzips her dress with the same slow care that Kris had used on her stockings. For, he's sure, the same reasons.
"And now your own."
"My dress?"
"Your clothes, Mr. Gyllenhaal," she says, "and let's see if you can fold them neatly this time. You could do with a little bit more order in your life."
"Whatever you say, ma'am," he says cheekily, and when he piles his clothes on his desk, right down to the shoes on top, they're in a sloppy pile. Kris notices, because he's paying sharp attention to everything that Reese asks, but he notices Jake's body more than that, all the muscular planes and curves that he's been hiding up until now.
She looks at his clothes with disdain. "On your knees, Mr. Allen. Three more swats."
"Wait, what?" he says, even as he's already moving to comply. "But he's the one-"
"Are you questioning me?" she says, slapping the ruler into her hand again. She's a tiny blonde in her underwear and she's by far the most powerful and intimidating thing in the room.
"No," Kris says, then adds a "ma'am" afterwards not because she asked but because it feels right. The three swats come in rapid succession this time, and Kris is positively throbbing when he sits back on his heels again. And stays there, because nobody is ordering him back into his desk this time. Jake removes his shirt when Reese orders him to, but that's all the contact that Kris gets.
"Since you like to touch people so much," says Reese, turning back to her other student, "you can touch me, Mr. Gyllenhaal." Jake reaches around to unhook her bra, but she stops him before he touches her. "Not with your hands. With your mouth."
Kris has to sit on his knees and watch as Jake unhooks her bra with his lips and tongue, bites the straps to tug them down her arms, then drops to his knees to pull her panties down with his teeth. Kris scratches at his knees and wants to give his cock a good tug but he doesn't quite dare. Not even when she spreads her legs, puts her hands on her hips, and he surges up to eat her out.
"Do you think," she says, her voice only a little bit rougher and a little bit shakier than before, "that if I let you touch me all over, that you can make sure that I come first?"
"Whatever you say," says Jake, and stands up and lifts her by the waist and plants her on the arm of one of the desks. And he does do what she asks, he touches her instead of himself, touches her everywhere, arms and throat and breasts and thighs. And when she reaches for him and grips him tightly, pulling him closer, Jake just enters her without any more communication than that. For all that they're playing a scene, they just understand one another like that.
And, well, Kris can't help touching himself after that, when they're not looking at him at all. Just enough to get some relief, though it doesn't give him nearly as much as he hoped.
In the end she does come first, but not by much.
Kris almost feels forgotten until they turn to him a few moments later and Reese lifts an eyebrow. "Did you touch yourself while you watched?"
Kris didn't mean to, but...okay, no, he did. He totally meant to do it and he owns up to it with a nod of his head.
"You're going to have to learn," says Reese, pushing Jake gently away and dropping to the floor again, steady on her feet. "Hands and knees, Mr. Allen."
Kris assumes the position within moments, and even wiggles his behind a little bit in hopes of a harder smack. He might already be a little sore, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want more.
He gets what he's asking for, and then some, but as he balances himself on one arm and uses the other to creep down his body to get himself off, Reese abruptly stops what she's doing.
"Take his hands."
A moment later Jake is on the floor in front of him, taking both of Kris's hands into his own so that Kris has to balance upright on his knees and can't touch himself. The ruler comes down on his red behind again and Kris aches and throbs and there's no release.
Kris feels the tension creeping up his back and he wonders if this is the point where he has to quit this, take a step back and evaluate this whole thing. He knows he can stop this whole thing with one word, he's just not sure that he wants to.
"Don't think about it," says Reese quietly, and the ruler comes down again. "Just let go."
And with those words she pushes him right past that stumbling block. He ducks his head and clutches Jake's hands and lets the paddling take him to a whole other place. He almost gets lost in it, almost feels like he's leaving his body entirely as the pleasure and pain mix and his arousal rises, but Jake's hands around his keep him grounded as much as they keep him from grabbing himself and jerking off fast and rough for the ten seconds it will take him to come.
Instead it takes a few more minutes, the ruler coming down at irregular intervals and at different strengths until something surges inside him and he clutches Jake's hands even harder and he's coming. He's coming just from that. It's an overwhelming feeling, both mentally and sexually, and Kris does get lost for a moment before Jake's grip brings him back.
Kris is more emotionally exhausted than physically when it's all over, but there's a kind of catharsis too. He gave himself in to the scene completely, gave complete control to someone else for a little while, and it was good. Not something he'd want to do every day, but good.
"I'll give you a minute," says Reese kindly, all at once back to the woman Kris met in the coffeeshop, and kisses his forehead and leaves the room. Jake lets go of his hands and does the same before he follows her.
Kris appreciates the time alone to pull himself together but he doesn't really feel broken, he doesn't feel like he's been taken to pieces so much as given a moment of clarity, about who he is and what he wants. Because maybe the two of them like to bring someone home with them sometimes and have a good time, but they're together, in a way that you can see even if you don't know them. That you can see even when you're naked with them.
Kris spent the past year finding his boundaries and getting to know himself a little better, but in the end he does want that. He wants someone. And maybe you never feel entirely ready for it to happen, maybe you never know all the right things to do or where or how to look, but he thinks that if it comes looking for him he'll be ready enough to let it happen.
Next story: Morning After The Night Before
Kink bingo square: authority figures
RPF. 4000 words. NC-17. Kris/Reese Witherspoon/Jake Gyllenhaal. Also contains: spanking, discipline, voyeurism/exhibitionism, coming untouched
Kris receives an unexpected invitation, and finds the moment of clarity he doesn't know he's been looking for. [Story 18/25 of Life Is Waiting For You.]
It's really sort of been a weird year for him, Kris thinks. His junior year of high school was one of transition too, though, so maybe it's just something about the year. Maybe there's something about being past the beginning, but with the end not quite in sight yet. Kris made a decision near the start of the year that he was just going to take opportunities as they came and it's certainly led him some interesting places.
It's strange to think it's almost over. One more summer. One more year of school. Then he's off into the real world, whatever that means, because unlike half his friends he doesn't think grad school is for him. What would he even do? An MBA? The idea doesn't appeal to him at all. He's not even sure how he's going to be using the degree he's getting already.
He's not even sure he will be using the degree he's already getting.
It's a thought that haunts him as he nurses a coffee in the corner, a copy of Anna Karenina on the table in front of him, not because he's reading it but because Alexis asked him to pick it up from the library for her and he's a real sucker for doing what Alexis asks of him. Now that he's sitting in a coffeeshop with it, it probably looks pretentious.
It's a good spot to people watch, which is about all Kris has the mental ambition for right now. The place is a student haunt, tables mostly filled with books and laptops, a couple pushed together to accommodate a group that's obviously celebrating something though Kris has yet to piece together just what. A well-dressed couple mixes with college girls in ponytails, maybe on their way home from the theatre, or a lecture. An older woman, maybe a professor but probably not, ties up one of the baristas with stories about her grandson.
The door chimes every couple of minutes, and any other day it would be white noise but tonight Kris is quietly watching.
The well-dressed couple sits down in the corner, and Kris smiles when he sees their feet tangle under the table. They've obviously been together a while, but in this one small way they're still like teenagers. He only watches for a little while before forcing himself to look elsewhere, back at the door again or at the endless line of customers streaming through.
It he'd kept watching, he probably would have noticed when they approached his table. At least he notices when they sit down.
"Hi?" he says after a few moments of hesitation.
"Having a good night?" the guy asks him, leaning forward onto the table with a friendly smile on his face.
They both look completely friendly, and in that way it's almost not weird, except that Kris has no idea who they are.
"Yeah, just taking it easy," he says, giving them a nod and wishing there was still coffee in his cup so that he had something to do with his hands.
"I hope you don't mind us joining you," she says. "You didn't seem to be waiting for anyone."
"Yeah, no," says Kris. "I don't have plans. Taking a night off from worrying about finals, unlike my roommates."
"It's always good to take a break," says the guy, leaning back a little and offering his hand. "I'm Jake, and this is Reese."
"Kris Allen," he introduces himself, to be polite. He's always happy to meet people, though they usually don't come join him without warning. "Were you out tonight?"
"Dinner," says Reese. "Sometimes it's nice to treat yourself to something nice. We were just having some coffee afterwards when we saw you sitting over here alone."
"And you felt sorry for me?" says Kris, giving them a crooked and only slightly awkward smile.
"Felt sorry for ourselves, that we weren't already sitting with you," says Reese instead, though. "And thought maybe we'd treat ourselves to something else nice."
He doesn't even know what to say to that so he just keeps smiling at them, and maybe this whole encounter is a little weird but it's making him feel nice. It's making him feel noticed. Noticed with a capital N.
"So this is a shot in the dark," says Jake, "but would you be interested in coming home with us?"
Kris doesn't have to ask for what, but with that question off the table he really has no idea what to say now, or how to answer. He can actually feel his eyes go wider, his mouth drop open a little, but no words come out.
"Just a one-time thing," says Reese, laying it all out for him as Jake continues to give him an easy smile and a hopeful look. "It's just something we like to do sometimes, when the moment and the company seems right. And when we both noticed you from across the room, it seemed right."
"I...wow," says Kris finally. "I just need a second. I've never...."
"We didn't think you had," says Jake, "but we were hoping you might want to. No hard feelings if you don't. We'd be happy to buy you a coffee and go on our way."
"But we'd like it if you gave it a chance," says Reese. "Just sit there and think it over for a minute, we've got plenty of time."
"She gets a little bossy sometimes," whispers Jake, leaning and saying it conspiratorially, as if she can't hear him.
And it's funny that that is what sets off the tingle in Kris's body that convinces him that maybe he should give this a shot. Why not? They're all consenting and he's desirable to them and they're not pinging any of his internal warning signals.
They're watching him, so they watch all of this play out on his face. Kris knows he's expressive, but sometimes he forgets just how much.
"I can be very bossy," agrees Reese, and her smile gets a little bigger when she sees Kris's reaction to that.
"Let me call my roommate to let him know where I'm going," Kris says finally, obviously a yes without actually saying yes.
"We'll even give you the address to give him," says Jake. "We're completely on the up and up. Just...."
"Just a little kinky," says Reese straight up, then smiles and gives him her business card with her name and address printed clearly on it.
"Yeah, me too," says Kris, maybe the first time he's really admitted that out loud like that, and put himself in those terms. He does give Cale a quick call because he's not that reckless, and promises to call again in a few hours if he's not home yet. Neither one of the two of them even bats an eye at him taking precautions.
And when Reese tells him to grab his things and follow them out to their car, Kris knows this might be exactly what he needs tonight, someone to be that little bit bossy with him-or a lot bossy with him-and take some of this weight off his shoulders for a little while.
The car ride isn't tense at all. Reese drives and Jake takes the back seat with him, which seems odd at first until Jake nudges him with his knee and reaches out to playfully read the lines on Kris's palm and Kris realizes that he's putting him at ease. That he wants him to be there and he wants him to want to be there. By the time they arrive at their loft, Kris really does.
"Do you have a safeword that you use?" Jake asks him just before they get there. Loud enough that Reese is a part of the conversation.
"Tennessee," says Kris, "but I'm not really into pain stuff."
"Neither are we," Jake promises him. "It's just in case it gets a little too intense."
Kris isn't sure what that means but he's willing to find out. He doesn't mind intense. In a way, it describes what he's already here looking for.
Jake disappears as soon as they get in, to the bathroom or the bedroom Kris figures, so Reese is the one to show him in and take his coat. Their loft is nice, big and open and clean and bright. It makes him feel comfortable and curious at the same time, because as much as it's a typical urban loft it's also got some décor that he thinks is pretty, well, atypical.
"So how does this work?" says Kris as he looks around. It's still possible this is a terrible idea, but it doesn't seem like a terrible idea. And anyway, he's got his cell phone in his pocket and Cale on speed dial.
"You sit over there," says Reese, using a laser pointer to indicate a lecture hall chair against the wall, one of four. Kris sits down in exactly the one she tells him to, rests his elbow against the tablet desk and waits. That certainly answers that question. "Mr. Gyllenhaal?"
Jake appears a moment later, stripped down from his more formal attire of earlier to just a pair of jeans and sneakers and a loose white shirt buttoned up halfway. He doesn't wait to be told before he sits down in the chair right next to Kris's and slouches down, like a hundred other students Kris has known. It's amazing how he can go from completely put together, like he was in the coffeeshop, to this; it's not just in his clothes but in his entire posture and attitude.
And just like that, Kris knows they've already begun.
"You both know why you're here," she says, making a show of switching the laser pointer off and slipping it back into her pocket. "If you can't keep your hands to yourself in class then you certainly don't deserve the freedom to do it after class either."
Kris swallows hard and finds himself slouching, just like Jake. Who is currently raising his hand.
"Mr. Gyllenhaal?"
"If we can't touch each other, can we touch ourselves?" he says, smirking at her as he runs a hand down towards his groin.
"That's quite enough of that," she says, walking crisply to the office desk against an interior pillar, one that looks like they use it for actual office work, and pulling a ruler out of the top drawer. She snaps it audibly into her opposite hand and Jake's hand freezes where it is.
Kris licks his lips and lets his hand rest on his stomach, just above his groin, and wonders what he needs to do to get a snap of the ruler directed at him.
"Since you boys are so lacking in discipline," she says, heels tapping against the floor as she returns to stand in front of them, "I'm just going to have to teach it to you in a way that you'll understand."
Kris has to bite his lip this time, and just like when he's in class in one of these chairs with the little desk arms he wishes there was a convenient way to hide the fact that he's obviously getting aroused by this. It's a problem he had a lot in freshman year when Lizzie was leading the class.
"Mr. Allen." Kris's head snaps up. "Please remove my shoes."
"I..." says Kris, and she taps her foot impatiently against the floor. He get out of his desk uncertainly and looks at her. "On your knees, Mr. Allen."
Kris drops to his knees in front of her, sitting back on his heels, and she places one foot on his thigh so that he can carefully remove her shoe. Then the other, which he takes even slower, sneaking a feel of her calf as he does. She doesn't react, but she doesn't reprimand him either.
"Very good," she says when he's done, shoes lined up beneath his desk and her stocking feet on the floor in front of him. "Now my stockings."
They're sheer and dark and Kris's fingers tingle as he touches them, tries to figure out how he's supposed to do this.
"Hey, if he doesn't want to do it, I'm game," says Jake from his seat behind him when Kris hesitates.
"Mr. Gyllenhaal," she snaps as Kris begins to push her skirt up. "You did not raise your hand."
Whether Jake raises his hand or not after that, she ignores him and Kris continues to search to figure out just how high those stockings go.
He finds the elastic at mid-thigh, slips his fingertips just under it for a moment while she waits, then instead of pulling it down he starts to roll it, over her thigh, past her knee, and all the way down to her ankle where he waits for her to lift her foot so he can pull it off.
He can't see her face, but likes to think she approves. The second stocking he approaches a little differently, lingers around the top elastic for a moment and explores higher up her leg for a moment, fingers searching eagerly but never going quite far enough, never going there.
He rolls this one off too, moving both hands evenly so that it's a smooth motion all the way to her foot. He sets them aside with her shoes, and just as carefully even though he thinks about leaving them just anywhere and seeing what she does.
"You took some liberties there, Mr. Allen," she says when Kris sits back on his heels again. "On your hands and knees."
That's always been an order that Kris follows without much hesitation no matter where it's coming from. He wouldn't say it's his favorite position, but...okay, yeah, it might be his favorite position. For certain things.
When the ruler first comes down on his backside it's a surprise, but not so much that Kris makes any noise. The second swat he barely reacts to at all, just a gentle sway of his body with the motion of her swing.
"I don't think this is getting through to you, Mr. Allen," she says after the third. "Trousers down." When Kris hesitates for just a moment, not even because he doesn't want to but because he's trying to figure out if she means just his pants or his pants and his underwear, she adds, "Now, Mr. Allen."
He struggles for a moment with his zipper then tugs his pants, and his underwear, down over his ass and to his knees. Any further and he'd have to get up.
When the ruler comes down this time he can definitely feel it. And it's no longer any secret that he's already hard, if it ever even was in the first place.
"You know, I might learn better if you let me hold the ruler once in a while," says Jake.
When the ruler hits him one more time, it's a little bit harder, and he feels like he's getting the punishment for Jake's sass as well as his own liberties. Which he can't say he minds all that much.
"Get up," she says. Kris struggles back to his feet, but when he goes to pull his pants back up she stops him. "You won't be needing those anymore. I have a feeling it's going to take a few tries before this lesson sinks in." So instead of putting them back on Kris takes his pants off, and his shoes and socks, and leaves them in a much messier pile than he left hers.
"Boys," she says, shaking her head at him, but it's an indulgent shake and she nods him back into his desk, the wooden chair harsh against his sore ass. But in kind of a good way.
"Mr. Gyllenhaal," she says, and he positively slinks out of his desk. "My dress."
"Is lovely," he says, and clasps his hands behind his back.
"I think you know what I want you do to," she says, turning slowly around so that the zipper of her dress is facing him. She even lifts her hair to make his task easier. "Do I need to be more explicit?"
"Yes, ma'am, I think you do."
"Remove my dress, Mr. Gyllenhaal," she says, "and don't forget that it's precious."
"I never forget anything you say," he says, and unzips her dress with the same slow care that Kris had used on her stockings. For, he's sure, the same reasons.
"And now your own."
"My dress?"
"Your clothes, Mr. Gyllenhaal," she says, "and let's see if you can fold them neatly this time. You could do with a little bit more order in your life."
"Whatever you say, ma'am," he says cheekily, and when he piles his clothes on his desk, right down to the shoes on top, they're in a sloppy pile. Kris notices, because he's paying sharp attention to everything that Reese asks, but he notices Jake's body more than that, all the muscular planes and curves that he's been hiding up until now.
She looks at his clothes with disdain. "On your knees, Mr. Allen. Three more swats."
"Wait, what?" he says, even as he's already moving to comply. "But he's the one-"
"Are you questioning me?" she says, slapping the ruler into her hand again. She's a tiny blonde in her underwear and she's by far the most powerful and intimidating thing in the room.
"No," Kris says, then adds a "ma'am" afterwards not because she asked but because it feels right. The three swats come in rapid succession this time, and Kris is positively throbbing when he sits back on his heels again. And stays there, because nobody is ordering him back into his desk this time. Jake removes his shirt when Reese orders him to, but that's all the contact that Kris gets.
"Since you like to touch people so much," says Reese, turning back to her other student, "you can touch me, Mr. Gyllenhaal." Jake reaches around to unhook her bra, but she stops him before he touches her. "Not with your hands. With your mouth."
Kris has to sit on his knees and watch as Jake unhooks her bra with his lips and tongue, bites the straps to tug them down her arms, then drops to his knees to pull her panties down with his teeth. Kris scratches at his knees and wants to give his cock a good tug but he doesn't quite dare. Not even when she spreads her legs, puts her hands on her hips, and he surges up to eat her out.
"Do you think," she says, her voice only a little bit rougher and a little bit shakier than before, "that if I let you touch me all over, that you can make sure that I come first?"
"Whatever you say," says Jake, and stands up and lifts her by the waist and plants her on the arm of one of the desks. And he does do what she asks, he touches her instead of himself, touches her everywhere, arms and throat and breasts and thighs. And when she reaches for him and grips him tightly, pulling him closer, Jake just enters her without any more communication than that. For all that they're playing a scene, they just understand one another like that.
And, well, Kris can't help touching himself after that, when they're not looking at him at all. Just enough to get some relief, though it doesn't give him nearly as much as he hoped.
In the end she does come first, but not by much.
Kris almost feels forgotten until they turn to him a few moments later and Reese lifts an eyebrow. "Did you touch yourself while you watched?"
Kris didn't mean to, but...okay, no, he did. He totally meant to do it and he owns up to it with a nod of his head.
"You're going to have to learn," says Reese, pushing Jake gently away and dropping to the floor again, steady on her feet. "Hands and knees, Mr. Allen."
Kris assumes the position within moments, and even wiggles his behind a little bit in hopes of a harder smack. He might already be a little sore, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want more.
He gets what he's asking for, and then some, but as he balances himself on one arm and uses the other to creep down his body to get himself off, Reese abruptly stops what she's doing.
"Take his hands."
A moment later Jake is on the floor in front of him, taking both of Kris's hands into his own so that Kris has to balance upright on his knees and can't touch himself. The ruler comes down on his red behind again and Kris aches and throbs and there's no release.
Kris feels the tension creeping up his back and he wonders if this is the point where he has to quit this, take a step back and evaluate this whole thing. He knows he can stop this whole thing with one word, he's just not sure that he wants to.
"Don't think about it," says Reese quietly, and the ruler comes down again. "Just let go."
And with those words she pushes him right past that stumbling block. He ducks his head and clutches Jake's hands and lets the paddling take him to a whole other place. He almost gets lost in it, almost feels like he's leaving his body entirely as the pleasure and pain mix and his arousal rises, but Jake's hands around his keep him grounded as much as they keep him from grabbing himself and jerking off fast and rough for the ten seconds it will take him to come.
Instead it takes a few more minutes, the ruler coming down at irregular intervals and at different strengths until something surges inside him and he clutches Jake's hands even harder and he's coming. He's coming just from that. It's an overwhelming feeling, both mentally and sexually, and Kris does get lost for a moment before Jake's grip brings him back.
Kris is more emotionally exhausted than physically when it's all over, but there's a kind of catharsis too. He gave himself in to the scene completely, gave complete control to someone else for a little while, and it was good. Not something he'd want to do every day, but good.
"I'll give you a minute," says Reese kindly, all at once back to the woman Kris met in the coffeeshop, and kisses his forehead and leaves the room. Jake lets go of his hands and does the same before he follows her.
Kris appreciates the time alone to pull himself together but he doesn't really feel broken, he doesn't feel like he's been taken to pieces so much as given a moment of clarity, about who he is and what he wants. Because maybe the two of them like to bring someone home with them sometimes and have a good time, but they're together, in a way that you can see even if you don't know them. That you can see even when you're naked with them.
Kris spent the past year finding his boundaries and getting to know himself a little better, but in the end he does want that. He wants someone. And maybe you never feel entirely ready for it to happen, maybe you never know all the right things to do or where or how to look, but he thinks that if it comes looking for him he'll be ready enough to let it happen.
Next story: Morning After The Night Before