The local high school was getting rid of the old teachers’ desks, and Cassie jumped at the chance to get one.

“Do we really need this?” Andrew asked.

“I’ve always wanted one,” Cassie said.

“Why?”

“Sex,” said Cassie.

“Huh?”

“Back in the day, I had this huge crush on my biology teacher, Mr. Morton. The desk figured prominently in my fantasies.”

“So did you and Mr. Morton...?”

“No way,” Cassie said. “Except in my fantasies. Which you’re now going to make come true.”

“I am?”

Cassie lay near the edge of the desk, her legs up, her ankles resting on Andrew’s shoulders. “C’mon now, Professor, quite messing around and put it in,” Cassie said.

“I’m trying to,” Andrew said. “It’s a bad angle.”

“What’s a bad angle?” Cassie asked, looking over the hillock of her pussy mound. Andrew’s cock stood straight and tall like a silo aimed at the sky. “Couldn’t you press it down or something?” Cassie said. “I need you in me so bad.”

Andrew pressed it down, but it popped up before he could get it into Cassie’s slippery opening.

“Fuck,” Andrew exclaimed.

Cassie laughed. Her tummy rippled with mirth.

“What’s so funny?” Andrew asked.

“I’m not laughing at your pecker,” Cassie said. “I just remembered something from grade school. Third grade.”

“Don’t tell me you had a crush on your third-grade teacher.”

“Miss Brumweiss? No way. I wrote a poem called ‘Good Angel, Bad Angel.’ Only I spelled angel wrong. I spelled it angle.”

Andrew laughed. His erection diminished just enough so he could press it into Cassie’s sex. Cassie’s chuckle gave way to a gasp. The sounds of her pleasure and the hot slick snugness of her sheath instantly added sixty degrees to Andrew’s loft. He plunged deep and withdrew slow—his prick-flange rubbing Cassie’s special spot just right.

“Come now, my good little, naughty little angel,” Andrew commanded, and Cassie came. Her orgasm sent Andrew shooting over the edge. Squelches of love juice oozed onto the new desk. The continued clenching of Cassie’s cunt not only milked Andrew into a series of aftershocks but kept him hard within her.

“You’re so bad,” Cassie sighed, when Andrew started fucking her again. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Poetry,” Andrew said.

***

After Andrew and Cassie had sex-christened Cassie’s new old desk, Andrew donned his trousers and hauled Cassie’s old desk to the end of the driveway for the trash haulers. Back inside, he helped Cassie transfer the box of things from her old desk. Andrew was about to hand Cassie the next item in the box, a fat, zippered Hello Kitty pouch. “What in here?” he asked.

“School supplies,” Cassie answered. “You know: pens, pencils, protractors.”

“Protractors?”

“In case I have to measure an angel.”

“When do you ever have to measure an angel?”

Cassie shrugged.

“When’s the last time you opened this pencil case?”

Cassie shrugged again. “Third grade?”

Andrew started to unzip the case.

“No,” said Cassie, reaching for the pouch, but Andrew swiveled away.

“I just want to see your pens and pencils and protractors.”

“No,” Cassie insisted. “Private.”

“You’re sure there isn’t something naughty in this pouch?”

“Like what?”

Andrew shrugged. “Like a vibrating sort of something?” Andrew slowly unpeeled the zipper.

“Meanie,” Cassie said, as Andrew emptied the case onto the desktop. A six-inch ruler, an eraser, and something metal tumbled out.

“This is not a protractor,” Andrew told Cassie, picking up the implement. “It’s a compass.”

“I know that,” Cassie said.

“Do you know what it’s used for?”

“Drawing circles,” Cassie said. “Now give me that before you hurt someone.”

The compass safely stored in her new desk, Cassie removed the protractor from the Hello Kitty pouch. She pressed it to Andrew’s groin. “Come on, unzip,” she told him. “Let’s see how many degrees your angelhood is.”

Dutifully, Andrew undid his trousers and pushed them down. His penis bobbed and bobbled.

“How am I supposed to measure if it won’t hold still?” Cassie asked.

Andrew chuckled. His penis continued to lift.

“And you’re too long for the ruler, too,” Cassie said, nestling the ruler along the shaft and finding its reach a good inch or more short of the crest of Andrew’s crown.

“That’s ‘cuz I’m not in the third grade,” said Andrew, picking up the eraser. “Pink Pearl. Looks like it’s never been used. A virgin.”

“That’s ‘cuz I never made mistakes,” Cassie claimed.

“Yeah, right,” Andrew said. “A squared plus B squared equals C squared.”

“Show off,” Cassie said, and she swatted Andrew’s hand with the ruler. Andrew dropped the eraser. It fell to the floor and bounded under the desk. “Oh, now you’ve lost it,” Cassie said, pouting.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find it,” Andrew said, going to his knees. He crawled under the desk. “Hm,” he said after some seconds of searching, “it seems to have disappeared.”

“Oh, no,” Cassie said. “I told you.”

“Don’t worry,” Andrew said. “I know where there’s another pink pearl.”

“Where?”

“Sit down in the chair and spread your legs and I’ll show you.”

Cassie sat down in the chair and spread her legs.

“You’re so pretty, Cass,” Andrew said. “Did you know your little muff is a perfect equilateral triangle?”

“What about my pink pearl?”

“I can just see the stem of it,” Andrew said. He moved closer, his fingers gently parting Cassie’s sex lips, exposing the erect clitoris at the apex. “Such a pretty pink pearl,” Andrew said, admiring it first with his eyes, then with his lips and teeth and tongue.