Mistletoe

"Working late again, Ms. Roberts?"

Carrie looked up from her stack of papers, the pen she was using to correct grammatical errors in her students' final exams dangling from her long fingers. She smiled, the first genuine one she had given in hours. It had been a very long afternoon, and she was determined to get this batch finished so that she could file them away and not take anything home with her. Actually have a bit of a break for herself for a change. But that had meant a grading marathon, and the stiffness in her shoulders reflected her staying in one place for too long. This interruption was just what she needed, even if it meant staying a little bit later to finish. It wasn't like she had anyone at home waiting on her.

"As always, Carson, and I thought I told you last time to call me Carrie." She reached over with her free hand for a small tin of cookies a student had given her for the holidays, and proffered them to the janitor. He sauntered over, dragging his cart along behind him.

"Frosted sugar cookies. My favorite." He smiled at her, a deep one. Carrie felt the familiar flush run up her middle, across her chest, and up into her cheeks. Taking a slow breath, she willed herself to look friendly and professional...and not like one of the hormonal teenagers who had just taken off for winter break. Get a grip, Carrie. She searched her mind for conversation topics, trying to push away the thoughts of just how nice this man looked, how friendly he was, how lonely she had been.

"Kids leave a big mess for you?"

Carson nodded, groaning. "You don't even want to know what I found in the south men's room. I swear, if these kids pull this crap at home, their mothers would skin them alive."

Carrie shot him a sympathetic look. "I can only imagine. They are endlessly creative, unless you ask them to put it on paper." She waved a hand over the papers. "You'd never know some of them have any creative thinking skills by what they turn in."

"Boring batch?"

She winced. "Painfully so. But I must admit they're easier to clean up. I mean, all I need is a pen. You probably needed a mop and a crow bar."

Carson pulled over a chair, settling down with a wry grin. "And numerous, and I mean numerous, chemicals. Kill EVERYTHING."

Her nose wrinkled at what that could indicate, and Carson laughed. "Okay, maybe not quite that bad, but seriously. I'd like to see those kids do my job for a day. Get some appreciation for a man at hard work."

The change in his voice caught her attention, and Carrie turned more fully towards him. "I know we teachers complain all the time about getting no respect anymore, but you really do have it worse. I'm sorry."

Carson shrugged. "It's a good job, supports me well, gives me a little extra to stash away for rainy days. I've worked worse."

She nodded, sympathetically. The high turnover in the janitorial position at this school made it clear that it was no one's ideal job. Granted, the teacher turnover rate wasn't much better. There had been many days, this week particularly, that she had been ready to give in. In fact, as she surveyed the only slowly dwindling pile of essays on her desk, she just couldn't take any more. She sighed, tossing down her pen.

‘Wrapping up for the day?"

She nodded, eyeing the large bag she had brought in just in case she had to haul student papers home. She had so wanted it to be empty. But she had gotten a few done. She began shoving papers into the bag, tossing her pen along in there with it.

"I'm finding I'm no longer in the mood to grade. Do you ever feel just...done?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she could have kicked herself. Of course he would feel that way. His job was just as challenging as hers, just in different ways. Some much grosser. She waved a hand at him. "Sorry. Goes without saying."

His eyes were legitimately kind. "It's okay, really. I understand. No job at a school is easy. And I certainly wouldn't want yours." He pushed himself up off the seat, and waited for her to gather her things. "Do you need any help with all that?"

She shook her head. "I've got it. It's just a couple bags. I'm a lot stronger than I look." And she was. Her trim frame may make her look very lean, but she did a lot of weight training at home to keep herself fit. Plus hauling around books, papers, and miscellaneous school supplies kept her strong. Still, when she turned around, three large canvas bags tossed over her right forearm, she noticed his look. A bit strained. She recognized it. Her father, before he had passed away from cancer, used to look like that when she insisted on always doing things for herself. He had been raised in an era that had taught him to treat women with respect, and part of that was carrying heavy things, or at least a portion of them. Apparently Carson had been brought up the same, though beng part of her generation. At least as best as she could tell. There were only faint lines on his face, and his body spoke clearly of strength and well-conditioned muscles. The kind you only get with hard, consistent work. Her face began to flush slightly as she realized she had gone from reading his face to his whole body. She held out her arm, ducking her head a bit to give her a second to cool the heat in her face.

"Actually, if you want to pick one or two, that would be helpful."

Carson grinned, and pushed his cart against the wall of her classroom so it would be out of the way. He then came over and slipped his hands through the thick straps of two of her bags, his fingers grazing her bare wrist as he transferred their bulk to one sinewy hand. A shiver ran through her body, and for a moment she felt her knees wobble. There was something very electric about this man. His gaze held hers for a moment longer than necessary before he gestured towards the door. "Which lot did you park in?"

She pointed just outside her window. "I'm really close—I moved the car after most of the staff left so I wouldn't have to trek all of this over the bad icy spots after dark."

"Smart lady. But being a teacher and all, you would have to be." He winked at her, then hoisted her bags with ease over one shoulder, reaching for the door handle as she slung her coat on, not bothering to button it. She'd be in the car soon enough, and it wasn't that cold outside. He held the door open for her, and she walked towards him, stopping suddenly when something yanked her hair.

"What the—"

"Hold on! You're caught up here. I'll get it."

Carson smoothly dropped her bags and used one foot to keep the heavy door to her classroom open, his body coming close to hers, his hands reaching above her head.

"What is it?"

"Some kind of plastic plant thing is caught in your hair. Good, too. I'll have you untangled in a jiffy, though."

She groaned. "Justin Pinkett. He stuck it up there so he could have an excuse to make out with his girlfriend, Mary Bonner, during last period. I thought he took it down, but I guess with all the drama of the final exams, I didn't check."

"Well, he put it up here good and well with lots of sticky tack and some wire."

"Oooch!"

His eyes met hers, sympathy radiating from them. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pull. Just hold still—I'm about halfway done freeing you."

Holding still—with him this close? That was hard to do. Her breath was already a touch faster as she deeply inhaled a musky aftershave that was deliciously male. It was intoxicating. She closed her eyes, willing her composure to come back. It may have been nearly a year since she had dated someone, but she was a thirty-three year old adult. She could handle this.

Then he stepped a little closer, his fingers gently winding through the top of her light blonde hair. She felt him tenderly tugging at the strands, his chest barely brushing against hers. Not that it was hard to do. She had been blessed since teenaged years with rather large breasts, DDDs, and they took up a lot of space. And right now, they were taking up with the edge of his uniform, pressed just enough against him to feel the buttons. Her heart jumped up into a faster rhythm, and she swallowed hard. Get a grip, girl. But her admonishment just reminded her of what she would love to grip on a man, and she let out a shaky breath.

"And there we go." His victorious cry was soft in her ear, and he backed away slightly to show her the bunch of green and white foliage. "What is this stuff, anyway?"

"Mistletoe."

"What's that?"

She looked at him, incredulously. "You don't know about the tradition with mistletoe?"

He shook his head, eyeing his prize suspiciously.

"Mistletoe is hung on doorways. When two people meet under it, they're supposed to kiss. It's good luck, and is thought to bring love."

Carson raised an eyebrow. "You mean if you really want to kiss a girl, all you have to do is get her to stand next to you under this ugly thing?" He chortled. "Must have some sort of secret power or magic to it."

She shrugged. "About the same as the rest of Christmas magic, I suppose."

Carson grinned. "I think I need to test this theory." He held it above his head, striking a ridiculous pose while giving an exaggerated pucker. "Just try to resist me!"

She laughed, her hand coming up to cover her eyes. "I can't look or I'll be swept under your spell!"

Carson playfully grabbed at her fingers, pulling her hand out to the side so she was forced to look at him. He was so comical she couldn't help it. Leaning in, she quickly pecked at his barely-stubbled cheek.

He peered at her. "Glad you aren't the P.E. teacher. You have no aim whatsoever."

"I do, too!" She crowed in mock indignation.

"Prove it." He made eye contact with her, and his smile dimmed a bit as something deeper, more serious, came into his expression. Something that enticed her. The playfulness of the moment began to fade. "Prove it," he repeated, issuing a soft command that sent sparkles of heat through her body. Before she even had a moment to think about it, to really consider what she was about to do, Carrie leaned the scant couple of inches separating them and paused just a breath's distance from his lips. His full lips. Very kissable lips. She closed her eyes. Her lips met his, quietly, tenderly, a bare whisper of a touch. She knew she should draw back, but the sensation of kissing a man—a very attractive man—was something she had missed for such a long time. Surprising herself, she curled her hands on either side of his neck and slanted her mouth against his, pressing a bit firmer.

A clatter signaled that he had dropped the mistletoe on the floor, his hands snaking around her waist to pull her tightly against him. He responded to her kiss, an urgency building between them. She parted her lips just slightly and he began nibbling at them, teasing her with his tongue. She moaned softly, running her fingers through his short-cropped black hair. They stood there for several minutes, just exploring each other's mouths, the kiss stoking a passionate fire within her. She missed this. She needed this. And she wanted more.

Shrugging out of her coat, she pulled her ribbed Christmas green sweater out of the waistband of her black pencil skirt. She placed her hands over his and guided them under the edges of the soft fabric until they were cupping her ribs. He gripped her firmly, pulling her harder against him, and she moaned as she felt the outline of his hardening cock pressing against her thigh. The man was impressive, a thought seconded by his teasing fingertip massage slowly up her ribcage. By the time he reached the cups of her bra, she was shaking. "Please...." The strangled word pressed through her lips as his hands cupped her bra-encased breasts, his lips tracing down the sensitive edge of her throat.

Carson moved almost lightning fast. One second he was massaging her aching chest in his hands, the next he had kicked her things back inside the classroom, maneuvered her so she was pressed against the shut door, and had flicked the lock on the handle. His left hand lowered the blind on the security window in the door, leaving them in complete privacy. The heat in his eyes seared her as he raised her hands above her head. "Leave them there..." he urged, as his hands made quick work of pulling her sweater over her head. The bra was off in seconds, and he gazed appreciatively at her hefty breasts before cupping the large orbs in his hands. She moaned and cried out his name as her nipples rasped against his palms. Dampness flooded her underwear as he took one, and then the other, slowly into his mouth, suckling the tips until they were rosy and taut. Her hands grasped at the back of his neck, pulling him onto her, desperate for more.

It wasn't long until the building fire inside her began to consume her. So long without a partner, the erotic nature of this man suckling on her, one hand rubbing her ass, had her trembling. His teeth gently raked over a nipple and she nearly screamed.

"Carson, please! I—"

Suddenly, a bright blast of pleasure erupted from low in her belly, and she felt her muscles stiffening as the orgasm took over. She threw her head back, emitting a keening cry as her legs shook. She felt him steadying her against him, taking her shudders in stride. Before she had fully come down from the heights of pleasure, she dimly felt him unzipping her skirt and pulling down her black thong. She was naked now except for her heels, and she felt him tracing his hands over her legs. He bent down, getting on his knees, kneeling on her discarded clothing as he pulled at her right leg. He grasped her by the thigh, pulling her foot off the ground, and exposing the inside of her long leg to his perusal. She barely managed to take in a cheeky wink from him before his lips connected with the inside of her knee. He made his way slowly up her thigh, sending ripples of pleasure through her. Placing her hands on the door behind her for support, she cooed and moaned as his tongue swept over the tender flesh. Once he got to just a few inches below her hip, he smacked his lips. "Your cum tastes wonderful. But I have made quite the mess. Better clean it up, seeing as that's my job."

Before she could take in a full breath, his tongue was making quick work of cleaning her juices from her orgasm off her thighs. She moaned and writhed against him, thankful for his tight grasp on her keeping her upright. By the time he reached her drenched lips, she was nearly out of her mind with pleasure. He suckled the bare flesh, burying his face in her, his tongue making quick work out of finding her clit. She screamed as he began flicking it with his tongue.

"CARSON! YES! Oh, God, yes!"

His hands moving to her upper thighs, pinning her in just the right position for his work, Carson eagerly lapped at her, his mouth driving her absolutely wild. Her head thrashed from side to side a she pressed him deeper into her, her hands clutching at his scalp.

"Oh, please! I'm so close!"

Carson began a frenzied motion of slipping his tongue deep inside her, wriggling around, then moving up to suck hard on her clit as his tongue traced rapid circles around it. It was too much for her to bear. Within seconds she was screaming his name again, flooding his mouth with her juices, her legs buckling as the orgasm took over. The room spun, her eyes closed, and her whole body vibrated with the intensity.

When her breathing finally slowed, she blearily opened her eyes to find that Carson was pulling off his shoes and socks, somehow managing to peel off all of his clothes without her hearing it. His cock, at least seven inches long and an impressive girth, stood hard and firm against his stomach. She weakly reached a hand out for it, and he acquiesced to her unspoken request with a grin, stepping closer so she could close her fingers around him. He leaned against her, leaving her just enough room to stroke his full length between them, his body pressing her once again against the door. His mouth moved over hers, their tongues dancing in a slowly building rhythm of lust and desire as she pumped his cock. He moaned into her mouth, and she smiled, drawing back.

"I need you. Now."

"Yes, Ma'am." Carson grinned, and bent to grasp her right leg behind the knee. Pulling it up and out to the side, he angled his hips down, allowing her to grasp him and lead him to her entrance. She teased the tip against her clit for a few moments until they were both groaning, and then let him slide with her ample fluids to where she needed him most. He butted up against the entrance, and she took a deep breath. As she let it out, he pushed just past the opening. Carrie gasped—he was huge. Stretching her. Filling her. And it was amazing. Carson wrapped her leg around his waist, ducking his hips to pull nearly completely out of her, then

slide another few inches in. Carrie groaned.

"Oh, please...fuck me."

Carson grunted and stroked in and out a few times, still going slow, still only a few inches. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, willing him to go deeper. The ache inside her was only growing more desperate.

"PLEASE!"

At her nearly-shouted beg, Carson bent his knees and thrust up, hard. His entire length speared into her and she gasped, her pussy grabbing onto every inch of him and clenching hard. He pulled at her other leg, pressing her harder into the door as he helped her cross her ankles behind his back. Fully open to him, she pressed her breasts against his face as he began earnestly fucking her, their bodies slamming into the steel door of the classroom with every thrust. Carrie was out of her mind with pleasure, feeling the first cock inside of her in over a year. She had missed this so much, and he was so good with it, filling her in ways she had never felt before. Two orgasms ripped through her as he pummeled her at varying speeds and depths.

Before long she felt him stiffening, his muscles growing tauter as a sheen of perspiration broke out over his skin. She reached between them, her fingers flicking at her clit, bringing her close to another climax.

"Oh, please cum in me! I need to feel you inside me! I want to feel you cum with me! Carson, now!"

Her gasps of pleasure as her fingers sped expertly over her clitoris soon were echoed by Carson, and he slammed one last time inside. She felt his cock shudder as it emptied inside her, spray after spray coating her well-fucked insides. She clenched around him, her muscles rippling in her own orgasm. The combined sensations kept both of them in the throes of pleasure longer than usual, and they both sank weakly to the floor. Carson rolled onto his side, still inside her, and she cuddled up close, enjoying the afterglow settling in as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

Carson sank his head onto her chest, aiming a grin up at her. "So, Ms. Roberts, do I get an A in your class?"

She chuckled. "You put in a lot of effort, young man. However, I think you may have rushed your work a bit at times." A cheeky grin stole over her face. "I would be willing to stay after school with you and help you with a little extra credit."

Carson laughed. "Would that help my grade?"

She twitched her hips, and grinned as he gasped at the pressure on his cock. "Oh yes. And I believe I still have a lot to teach you."

He gazed up at her. "I've heard that the best teachers also learn from their students. Is that true?"

"Definitely." She pulled him up for a deep, sensuous kiss. "I think there are many lessons still to come...for both of us."