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The warmth was the first thing that he noticed. Humidity wrapped around his beak and face just like the plush plumage of his teacher's inner thighs, spread out across the same desk he'd been sitting in for the last hour and a half of his final period of the day. Ms. Greyson's hand danced gently across the back of his head, fingers running between his own feathers, squeezing in, holding tight - and drawing him closer. Jura brushed his nose against her, then parted his beak, nuzzled up underneath her skirt there... and flicked his tongue out.

Immediately the older penguin twitched and gasped, legs clamping along his shoulders, body straightening above him. Then again as he licked again, and again, and again; the student turned his head to one side and came in closer against her, now lapping at that slick, silken wetness, now suckling softly. Above him tension bubbled away into sweet, simmering enjoyment, and he could feel Ms. Greyson giving in to his attention.

"Mama's boy," Nao had teased him a few times before. That had been the most shocking thing to find out during their repeated sleepovers, more so than the initial discovery of mutual interest between the two students, more so than the willingness to go further and further. It had been downright terrifying to Jura, sitting on the carpeted floor of the younger penguin's bedroom one night earlier in the school year, arms clasped around his knees drawn up to his chest, the dark room illuminated by the flashing screen of the video game they had on pause, as he shakily, nervously went into his explanation of the depth of his relationship with his mother.

More than that, he remembered saying, and thinking it quite poetic. Basically all of my experience with girls? Like, y'know... in bed? Was - is - with her. And Nao had stared, beak agape - which _was_the reaction Jura had expected - but with amazement and something like relief in his eyes - which he hadn't.

"You too, man?" his friend had whispered. "Ha. Mama's boy."

So now as Ms. Greyson, Nao's mom, held Jura's head between her thighs and grinded up against him, smearing his beak in her scent - which did, he noticed, carry many of the same notes and spices as her son - he couldn't help but think of him. Thinking of the way Nao kissed, the way he worked his tongue; how he was particularly exploratory with his hands, and wasn't afraid to grip and squeeze with his talons; how he really pressed himself forward, as Jura did now with his hands working up underneath Susan's thighs to hold her against him.

What was interesting was the differences between her and his own mother. The texture of the skin was slightly different, the particular _arrangement_of the folds, the way they stretched and pressed against his beak and slid around his tongue, the way she grinded forward and dribbled down his chin, how she gasped and shivered and twitched... Jura wrenched one hand out from underneath her leg and dropped it beneath his desk, as he had started doing while daydreaming during class so many times before but this time actually going further. He wriggled where he sat, bumped against the metal arm of the attached chair, popped the button and zipper of his fly... and then gave himself a few slow, nervous pumps still within the confines of his jeans.

"I can see what - Elyna was saying..."

Jura froze, beak parted against her, tongue buried beneath slick, wet folds of flesh. That was his mother's name.

"You do know how to use that mouth of yours. But now I'm curious."

Then as suddenly as things had started, they shifted. The penguin straightened up, leaned back, and slid her hand from his head, then scooted back along the desk - leaving a dribbling trail of wet arousal and drool - and slid off, nearly all evidence of their after-school discussion so far hidden beneath the swaying pleats of her skirt.

But then she faced her student, looked him up and down, and knelt down before the space at the side of the desk. Instinctively he braced against the arm of the chair and turned himself, legs coming off the molded plastic, tailfeathers flicking as he scooted closer to the edge. Then it was her breath, hot and humid, puffing across his twitching arousal instead of Nao's, or his own mother's.

"You remind me of my son," she rumbled, gently spreading her fingers along his base. Jura's body gave a reflexive twitch and tighten in response to the outside touch; maybe it was just part of being a high school senior, but he and Nao had discovered behind the gyms that, with the right encouragement and about four minutes of touching, he could get off without even having to take his pants off. "About the same size. You might be a little longer, but I think he's somewhat thicker..."

Then her tongue came out, sweet and soft, dragging right from base to tip and then back down. He twitched and shivered, fingers gripping the edges of his seat; Ms. Greyson came up again, tilted his shaft down a bit, and flashed her eyes up to him, beak parted around his head. She blinked, tilted her head, then slid her tongue out again, now slipping gently beneath the rim of supple skin there, pressing in so that one of his legs kicked and he clenched his jaw, then around to the underside... and then she closed her mouth around him and dove back down.

Jura's head slid back on his shoulders, mouth open, eyes unfocused. Nao was plenty good at this, but this was... she reminds me of my mom, he thought, then once more realized how absurd that sounded and couldn't help but feel the blush heat his cheeks. Still her taste and scent lingered on his beak, wafting back in with every breath; as Susan bobbed away at him she pumped his hard shaft, quickly bringing him closer and closer until his hand crept up from the seat to the back of the chair, talons scraping across the plastic, digging in-

Then he gasped, twitched, bucked, bucked again - and right as he tumbled over the edge, right as that simmering heat poured over into a bright, sharp explosion of pressure and pleasure, the wet warmth around him slid away, and he jerked and pumped out into the open air. Only, not quite: Susan continued stroking his length as he bucked and squirted and emptied out, ropes of white spraying out across the plumage of her neck, shoulders, and chest between her breasts, visible with the first two buttons of her blouse undone. She smeared and wiped him against her, warm flesh squishing beneath his length, and then sat back on her haunches, both panting softly.

"Full points," she said, then stood up. As she did so she redid those buttons, smearing the evidence in against herself as well as hiding it - most of it - from the rest of the world. "I'll inform your mother as well as Nao that you exceeded expectations in our little after-school conference. Now - go run along, Jura. I'm sure you have some homework to do with my son."

"Ye..." He swallowed. "Yes, ma'am."

Susan licked one of her talons, patted at her chest - just a little bit of that wetness seeped through the fabric - and nodded to the door. "I'll let you and your mother know if you're needed for any further... sessions."

Jura's tailfeathers flicked again. "Yes, ma'am."