Tama Vigit

by

Tags: School, .

Desc: Fiction Story: Stacy thought she had enough problems being the teenage daughter of the hottest teacher in school, but when she discovers that an Indian exchange student will be sharing her bed...Could life possibly get any worse?

Her name was Tama Vigit and that was the short version, because I guess people from India have really long names or something. But Tama Vigit is what we called her and Just Tama for short. She was an exchange student at my high school, just 16 like me, and I didn't really want her there. Or at least I didn't want her in my house, put it that way. But I didn't have much choice in it.

My dad's a teacher, and worse than that, he's one of my teachers at Jefferson High School. My high school. It sucked having my dad as a teacher, but not for the reasons you're thinking of probably. Yeah, I couldn't skip out on school. And yeah, he came to every single parent-teacher conference. And of course he knew exactly what I was doing every minute of every day. Those are just the obvious things. What might not be so obvious is the fact that I took a hard time from all of my friends, and even kids, girls, who weren't my friends.

"God, your dad is so hot!" my sort of friend Julie was saying during lunch. Sometimes I liked her, sometimes I didn't.

"I bet he's got a big dick." Petra, who was supposed to be my best friend, giggled.

"He was looking at me today." Veronica, or just Ronnie was what she liked, was nodding. "He was checking me out!"

"Oh shut up!" I frowned, wrinkling my nose. "He wasn't even looking at you."

"Does he have a girlfriend yet?" Julie asked, because I had to keep them up to date on my dad's eligibility for some reason.

"No." I rolled my eyes. "And he isn't looking either."

"Every guy's looking!" Ronnie laughed.

"Well, he isn't," I decided, putting down my sandwich. It was peanut butter and jelly, I hated that stuff.

"I'll bet I fuck him first!" Petra giggled some more and I stared at her hard. "Sorry, I just mean..." She looked down, blushing a little because she knew I didn't like it.

They had a bet, my three friends, about which one of them could seduce my dad first. It didn't matter that they were all 16 year old virgins and didn't have a clue about sex, except for what their stupid boyfriends whispered in their ears on Friday nights. They were all determined that my dad would be their first, and which one of them he fucked first, she'd be extra special, or something. It all sounded dumb to me, but he was my dad too, so I didn't exactly see him the same way they did.

I just wished they'd shut up, you know?

But it wasn't entirely their fault, because my dad was and still is a good looking man. At that time he was just 34 years old, but he didn't look it. I mean 34 sounds ancient when you're just 16, but my dad was anything but that. He was tall, with thick black hair, and eyes like so blue, yeah I was his daughter, but wow! His eyes, they could make me forget if I wasn't careful. A strong, clean face, a hard body, really tight abs and a great butt. My dad had an ass that was ... perfect. There just isn't another word for it. Every girl in school checked out my dad's butt ... Now you know why I hated having him for a teacher.

I was cute myself, I mean we all were, you know. I had my dad's blue eyes, thank God! And his black hair, long and wavy. A nice body I was proud of mostly, except my hips were sorta fat, I thought. But nobody else did. I looked good and once my boobs got fully grown, I'd be really hot, or so I hoped.

My friends too.

Petra was a knockout, really, and probably my dad had noticed her. I mean men walked into plate glass windows at the mall when she was around, with her honey blonde hair and perfect face. She modeled for local companies, that's how pretty she was, and someday hoped to go to New York and be a real one. She just needed to get taller, since Petra was only like 5'5 then, but maybe she was still growing. Her boobs were, they were C cups already and she was proud of them.

Julie had nice sized boobs, but they were so firm she didn't wear a bra. Like never, not even during gym class when we'd run laps or whatever. They were just there, like the rest of her. She was pretty much in your face cute, with dark straight hair to her shoulders, parted down the middle around a heart shaped face. Julie was the most outgoing of us, sort of wild, which was maybe why I didn't always like her.

But yeah, Julie was seriously cute, much like Ronnie, who had auburn hair, almost but not quite red, you know? Kind of long and usually in a ponytail. She had an open face, like an innocent girl next door look, with freckles across her nose and dimples. A small body too, very small, but tight. She'd been a gymnast for a long time, but now she was into dance, like ballet and stuff. Ronnie was hoping she'd grow too, because she was only 5'2" then and like 80 pounds soaking wet.

And all three of those girls, who were as pretty and fun and attractive as any three girls you can think of, all of them wanted to have sex with my dad. It was a nightmare sometimes, but manageable, because one thing about my dad ... He was a serious guy. I mean he wasn't one of those teachers you hear about who like rubbing a girl's shoulders, or maybe keeping one for detention, you know? Just so he could talk to her about how her grades might improve with a little friendly persuasion. Nope, my dad was a real teacher, that's what he liked, and students were students to him, that's all.

Even the ones who flashed him hot pink thongs, like I know Petra did sometimes. I'd seen her do it. Or Julie, who would wear thin sweaters and tweak her nipples before class so my dad would see how long and hard they were. And especially Ronnie, who practically melted into his lap every time she had a question. She'd make stuff up too, like "Gee Mr. Robbins, I forgot how to spell my name! tee-hee." and go to his desk and lean way over, smiling and rubbing and ... What a slut.

That's my dad's name, by the way, Mr. Robbins, Michael Robbins. I'm his only daughter, Stacy Robbins.

And then, just as I was thinking I had it covered, that maybe my three friends were harmless because my dad was too cool for that stuff ... Along comes Tama Vigit.


"What?" I was staring at my dad like he'd just told me an alien was coming to dinner. And there was, just a different sort of alien.

"That exchange student, from India. I told the school board she could stay with us." My dad shrugged, like it was no big deal.

"Why?" I blinked, realizing I'd heard him right the first time.

"Well," Daddy shrugged. "She has to stay with someone. She's 16 and you're 16 so ... I thought maybe it would be nice having someone around here you can talk to."

"I can talk to you, Dad." I shook my head. "She ... She probably speaks Indian or something."

"I'm sure she does, but she also speaks English very well from what I understand." My dad smiled, missing the point entirely.

"Where's she gonna sleep?" I challenged him. "The other bedroom's full of junk."

We had three bedrooms in our house, mine, Dad's, and the junk room, so called because it was where we put our junk.

"Uh, well..." My dad took a bite of the casserole I'd made for dinner. " ... This is really good, Stace."

"No, uh-uh..." I shook my head some more. "Not with me, dad, come on!"

"Why not?" He narrowed his eyes. "You have a big bed, a huge bed. Three girls could sleep in it easy."

That was sorta true, I had a king size bed which was monstrously huge, and so did my dad, they'd been on sale for ridiculously cheap when they closed the Hesse's department store downtown. But I loved my big huge bed; I didn't want to share it with some goat girl from India! I didn't want to share my bathroom. I didn't want to share my house. And most of all I didn't want to share my dad. I liked being the woman of the house. My house. And me and my dad talked just fine by ourselves, thank you very much!

"It's my bed, Dad!" I got up, knowing I was acting like a little girl, but I couldn't help it. "You coulda asked, you know!" And then I was running upstairs, leaving my dad to sit by himself.


"I'm sorry," I said.

It was late, my dad was in his bed, grading some papers the way he did mostly. He said it was better than a sleeping pill, grading papers I mean. He was an English teacher, so he had to do a lot of reading of really bad English. Like mine. He was wearing some boxers and a t-shirt, I just had my long sleepy-t and some panties, but we were pretty used to each other anyway. I mean it had just been the two of us since his wife had died like eight minutes after I was born.

I never thought of her as my mom. I'd never had one. She was just my dad's dead wife.

"It's okay, Stace." He nodded, looking at me over the papers he was holding. "You were right; I should have asked you first. This is your house too, and your bed."

"But she's still coming, right?" I sighed, curling up next to him and my dad nodded.

"Yep."

"I guess it's okay." I put my hand on his chest, facing him on my right side. "How long is she gonna be here?"

"About 2 months," Dad told me, checking something on the paper with his red felt tip pen. "Nine weeks. What does this mean, ' ... she wasn't quite nothing like I expected... '?"

"Hey!" I sat up a little. "Is that mine?"

"Uh-huh." Daddy clucked his tongue. "I think I should have a talk with your dad about this story of yours. The grammar is terrible!"

"Oh God!" I just rolled my eyes. "They have a pill for that, you know."

"What? Poor grammar?" He looked at me, smiling.

"Your multiple personality problem." I giggled. "You're so weird sometimes!"

"Yeah," he nodded. "But you love me."

"Yeah," I sighed, closing my eyes and snuggling close. "I do, daddy."


"You're getting an exchange student?" Petra gave me a funny look.

.... There is more of this story ...

The source of this story is Storiesonline

For the rest of this story you need to be logged in: Log In or Register for a Free account

Story tagged with:
School /