Kurt was just getting settled into his last and favourite lesson of the Friday, Italian. He was one of the 10 students which had decided to take it as one of their major lessons. Luckily for Kurt he managed to pick it up very easily (seeing as he was fluent in French, Spanish and Latin). The other reason why he took this class was because it was taught by one of the finest teachers at the school. Mr Anderson.

Kurt was just getting his book out of his satchel when he saw those bare ankles from under his desk. He had arrived. That was one of the things Kurt liked about him. He never wore socks in the summer season. But in the winter he would wear the most ungodly things in the whole world. He also always wore a bowtie and suspenders. 

“Alright class. Today we are going to use some poetry in the lesson” Mr Anderson stated firstly which only made Kurt’s heart beat even faster. “It can be a poem of your choice so it will be more personal. Also I will be talking to you all individually to see what you come up with at the end of class. So have fun” once he had finished talking everyone set out choosing the right poem to translate. Kurt knew exactly what poem he was doing.  

It took him most of the lesson to translate the whole thing. He kept getting a little stuck on the finer words which were used. Finally he had it finished and was just waiting for the last few minutes of class to tick by so he could read it and make Mr Anderson see what he has been doing to him.

Kurt couldn’t help but watch Mr Anderson work on some papers as he let the class do their own thing for an hour. He kept on making a few trips to answer people’s questions or concerns. And every time he leaned over a desk he gave Kurt the best view in the world. That’s another thing Kurt loved about him. His ass was just so perfect. It was completely toned and the trouser he wore didn’t give it enough justice.

It was nearing the end of the lesson so he was asking people up one at a time to show him the progress which they had made in the previous 50 minutes.

Kurt was the last person to show his poem but just before he was about to stand the bell rung signalling the end of class and the school day.

“Okay class we will pick this back up next week. But Kurt if you want you can stay now to show me your progress” Mr Anderson stated to the class whilst talking directly to Kurt.

“That should be fine. Just let me text my dad that I will be slightly later” Kurt answered as he got his phone out and wrote out a brief explanation to Burt about why he will be a bit late.

“The rest of you are dismissed” Mr Anderson exclaimed as he sat back down into his swivel chair.

As the class left Kurt started to head towards the desk after receiving a text from Burt saying that it was okay.

He just got to the front of the desk as Mr Anderson looked up at him with a warm smile on his lips.

“Okay Kurt. How did you think the lesson task? Was it easy for you” he asked as Kurt took a seat atop the desk in front of him.

“It was fine apart from some of the finer words in the poem” he answered swiftly wanting to just say his poem and hopefully

“Well then would you mind letting me hear it so far” he stated because he knew Kurt wouldn’t need to be asked twice to do something for him.

“Not at all Sir” Kurt replied whilst getting out his lined paper which had the poem on it ready to read.

He cleared his throat after the teacher gestured with his arm for him to start.

“Le tue mani sulla mia pelle,
Il calore del tuo tocco,
Sapevo che avrebbe vinto,
E non mi ha resistenza molto.

Il tuo respiro sul mio collo,
Inviati brividi lungo la schiena,
Ho potuto vedere la nocciola dei tuoi occhi e ogni macchia oro,
Il bacio è stato posizionato con cura mi ha fatto piagnucolare.

Le perle di sudore giù per la schiena,
Da ogni movimento che fate,
Sapevo che non avrebbe mai rompere,
Anche per il mio bene.

Tu mi tieni premuto,
Come il tempo è vicino,
Ho tirato su i capelli del marrone più morbida,
Dopo un rapido grido tutto congelato.

Il cielo è nero,
E le stelle sono tutti fuori,
In questo piuttosto baracca,
Il minimo che potessi fare era dubbio.”

Once he had finished speaking he looked up to see his teacher looking at him with his hazel eyes turned a few shades darker. His breathe was coming out shorter and deeper than normal as his hands began to sweat.

Kurt looked at him innocently through his eyelashes and bit his lip. He didn’t realise that this one little poem would have such an effect on his seemingly well put together teacher.

Mr Anderson cleared his throat as he tried to compose himself.

“Um…Kurt…what…but…huh” the teacher stuttered out not knowing what he had just listened too.

Kurt smirked at the way he had managed to make his teacher go completely speechless over a few sentences.

“I thought that you may like it. I was thinking about you when I wrote it” Kurt explained as he started to walk around the desk towards his still struggling teacher.

Before his teacher could say anything in return Kurt straddled his lap and caught his lips in a deep kiss.

His teacher let out a shocked breathe through his nose but returned the kiss just as eagerly.

Kurt suddenly felt a tongue probing at his lips and opened his mouth eagerly. This was his first kiss and he was so glad it was.

His teachers and his own tongue battled for dominance in his mouth but Mr Anderson one in the end.

They released each-others lips after a few more minutes. Both of them breathing heavily and looking at each-other’s eyes.

“Kurt we shouldn’t be doing this” Mr Anderson stated in a low voice as he felt Kurt start kissing down his jaw towards his throat.

Kurt answered by sucking strongly on his pulse point which seemed to make his teachers morals fly out the window, as he let out a low throaty moan.

Kurt let go of his neck, happy with the purple mark left in its wake. He looked up at his teacher to see his eyes blown with lust leaving only a slight hazel ring of iris around his black pupils.

“What’s your name?” he questioned breathily as he got some of his mind back to normal.

“Blaine” he answered back before latching his lips on the side of Kurt’s neck.

Before Kurt could answer he was being pushed up from the chair and into the chalk board. He moaned loudly as he felt his teacher hard against his leg as he was working on his neck.

“Oh my god, Blaine” Kurt moaned out breathily as his teacher started to rut into the side of his leg.

He could feel Blaine’s hand start to travel down across his side. The touch sent hot sparks across his skin. The hand kept traveling down until it stopped to palm him through his tight black skinny jeans.

Abruptly the door to the class room swung open and a tall man walked in.

“Blaine I just wanted to tell you…..” the person trailed off at the scene in front of him.

Blaine pulled away from Kurt’s neck quickly and his hand from his crotch but still stayed close.

Kurt looked over to see Mr Smythe of drama standing in the doorway with a cocky smirk on his lips.

“Well what do we have here” Mr Smythe said with a smarmy grin firmly set in place.

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Your hands on my skin,

The heat of your touch,

I knew you would win,

And I wasn't resisting much.

Your breath on my neck,

Sent shivers down my spine,

I could see the hazel of your eyes and every gold fleck,

The kiss you placed carefully made me whine.

The sweat beads down your back,

From every move you make,

I knew you would never crack,

Even for my own sake.

You hold me down,

As the time is close,

I pulled on your hair of the softest brown,

After one swift shout everything froze.

The sky is now black,

And the stars are all out,

In this quite shack,

The least I could do now was doubt.