damalurbackup (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
damalurbackup) wrote2009-04-15 11:18 am
damalurbackup) wrote2009-04-15 11:18 am
Entry tags:
[ficlet] tbbt - middlegame
TITLE: Middlegame
CHARACTERS: Sheldon/Penny
RATING: R/NC-17 for sexuality
NOTES: AU, written for the kink meme. I'm working on an sequel to be posted shortly, so this little thing gets its own post.
SUMMARY: There are a lot of questions Penny doesn't ask, when her professor bends her over his desk.
Prelude | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
MIDDLEGAME.
Professor Sheldon and School Girl Penny have some fun!
Bonus points if you can work some actual science in it!
::
God, she thought, if her mother ever found out —
Found out what? What was this, exactly? Penny shifted against the desk, tightening her fingers around the edge and locking her elbows for better leverage. Was it a payoff? Not for the grade, at least; she'd been pulling a ninety since the mid-term. Barely an A, but still good enough that there was no reason for her to come to class bare beneath her skirt, no reason for her to let the professor bend her over his desk and fuck her from behind.
"Spread your legs," he ordered. She did.
His voice was nothing extraordinary, not deep nor sensuous, although now it fell to an octave below that grating whine he used to berate the slow students. Some quality in his tone, though, sent a jolt of heat straight to her groin; the rawness, maybe, or the slight irregularity to his breathing. She loved that — loved the little signs that she had undone him, that she made this rigid man with his dark suits and his equations come undone.
She could feel him pressing against her slick heat; still clothed, as she was not, but the hardness nestled against her core was unmistakable even through the rough fabric of his trousers.
"Miss Penelope," he said, and she shuddered, tried to find some purchase against his leg to grind her clit. "You haven't been paying attention in my class." A finger whispered down the length of her spine, and then he splayed his hand between her shoulder blades and forced her down. Her nipples were painfully erect; one was trapped against the metal spiral of a notebook.
He curved over her, holding her in place with the weight of his body, and ran his tongue slowly over the shell of her left ear. "It's unacceptable when a student doesn't pay attention in my class, Penny."
She gasped.
"I expect better from my students, especially from those as dedicated as yourself." His fingers crept between their bodies and caressed the curve of her ass. "Physics is clearly not your strongest subject," his voice was low and masculine and inescapable, "but you display a tenacity that could put you on equal footing with the brighter students."
"You were the one who —" she said, and swallowed. "You were the one who told me not wear underwear today."
"Really," he said, and smacked her hard on the rear with an open palm. "Because I have no such recollection."
God, she thought, and groaned, and fought her anger at his stupid mind games, and arched against him —
He smacked her again, and her hips snapped forward involuntarily, but not from the force of his blow.
"If you have trouble understanding, Penelope, the best policy is to ask."
"I don't ask —" she bit out, and he shifted his hips aside and brushed a knuckle across her opening.
"What don't you ask?"
"I don't ask —" why you fuck me when you're so perfect, she finished. Why you never smile. Why you wear a Spider-Man tee under your dress shirts. Why the outer two fingers of your left hand are twisted and scarred. Why the picture of the dark-haired woman in your office is turned face-down. Why you chose me, of all the thousands of girls here. "— for you to do this."
"To do what, precisely?" He slipped a finger into her.
"To —" He slipped another finger inside, then twisted his hand to flick his thumb across her clit. "Touch me!"
"You didn't ask me to touch you, Penny?" His thumb started to work in slow circles over the hood. "That is an outright falsehood. You were the one who came to me after class, Penny, and you were the one who said that you didn't care about the rules, and you were the one who told me you were a big — old — five —" He punctuated each of the words with a thrust, driving his long fingers deeper into her. "You were the one who kissed me, Penny," he finished.
She tried to rock back against him, but he pinned her hips to the desk with his other hand. "Professor Cooper —"
"Penny, if you're having trouble, you have to ask."
"Professor Cooper, please —"
He was on her before she could draw another breath, with a snick as he yanked on his zipper and then he was at her entrance and then he drove into her, forcibly enough that she cried out as the desk's edge bit into her skin, and then he was filling her, his hard length stretching her until all that mattered was him —
Which was precisely what he wanted.
She thought about asking a lot of things, but never about asking him to stop.
CHARACTERS: Sheldon/Penny
RATING: R/NC-17 for sexuality
NOTES: AU, written for the kink meme. I'm working on an sequel to be posted shortly, so this little thing gets its own post.
SUMMARY: There are a lot of questions Penny doesn't ask, when her professor bends her over his desk.
Prelude | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
MIDDLEGAME.
Professor Sheldon and School Girl Penny have some fun!
Bonus points if you can work some actual science in it!
::
God, she thought, if her mother ever found out —
Found out what? What was this, exactly? Penny shifted against the desk, tightening her fingers around the edge and locking her elbows for better leverage. Was it a payoff? Not for the grade, at least; she'd been pulling a ninety since the mid-term. Barely an A, but still good enough that there was no reason for her to come to class bare beneath her skirt, no reason for her to let the professor bend her over his desk and fuck her from behind.
"Spread your legs," he ordered. She did.
His voice was nothing extraordinary, not deep nor sensuous, although now it fell to an octave below that grating whine he used to berate the slow students. Some quality in his tone, though, sent a jolt of heat straight to her groin; the rawness, maybe, or the slight irregularity to his breathing. She loved that — loved the little signs that she had undone him, that she made this rigid man with his dark suits and his equations come undone.
She could feel him pressing against her slick heat; still clothed, as she was not, but the hardness nestled against her core was unmistakable even through the rough fabric of his trousers.
"Miss Penelope," he said, and she shuddered, tried to find some purchase against his leg to grind her clit. "You haven't been paying attention in my class." A finger whispered down the length of her spine, and then he splayed his hand between her shoulder blades and forced her down. Her nipples were painfully erect; one was trapped against the metal spiral of a notebook.
He curved over her, holding her in place with the weight of his body, and ran his tongue slowly over the shell of her left ear. "It's unacceptable when a student doesn't pay attention in my class, Penny."
She gasped.
"I expect better from my students, especially from those as dedicated as yourself." His fingers crept between their bodies and caressed the curve of her ass. "Physics is clearly not your strongest subject," his voice was low and masculine and inescapable, "but you display a tenacity that could put you on equal footing with the brighter students."
"You were the one who —" she said, and swallowed. "You were the one who told me not wear underwear today."
"Really," he said, and smacked her hard on the rear with an open palm. "Because I have no such recollection."
God, she thought, and groaned, and fought her anger at his stupid mind games, and arched against him —
He smacked her again, and her hips snapped forward involuntarily, but not from the force of his blow.
"If you have trouble understanding, Penelope, the best policy is to ask."
"I don't ask —" she bit out, and he shifted his hips aside and brushed a knuckle across her opening.
"What don't you ask?"
"I don't ask —" why you fuck me when you're so perfect, she finished. Why you never smile. Why you wear a Spider-Man tee under your dress shirts. Why the outer two fingers of your left hand are twisted and scarred. Why the picture of the dark-haired woman in your office is turned face-down. Why you chose me, of all the thousands of girls here. "— for you to do this."
"To do what, precisely?" He slipped a finger into her.
"To —" He slipped another finger inside, then twisted his hand to flick his thumb across her clit. "Touch me!"
"You didn't ask me to touch you, Penny?" His thumb started to work in slow circles over the hood. "That is an outright falsehood. You were the one who came to me after class, Penny, and you were the one who said that you didn't care about the rules, and you were the one who told me you were a big — old — five —" He punctuated each of the words with a thrust, driving his long fingers deeper into her. "You were the one who kissed me, Penny," he finished.
She tried to rock back against him, but he pinned her hips to the desk with his other hand. "Professor Cooper —"
"Penny, if you're having trouble, you have to ask."
"Professor Cooper, please —"
He was on her before she could draw another breath, with a snick as he yanked on his zipper and then he was at her entrance and then he drove into her, forcibly enough that she cried out as the desk's edge bit into her skin, and then he was filling her, his hard length stretching her until all that mattered was him —
Which was precisely what he wanted.
She thought about asking a lot of things, but never about asking him to stop.