NIKKI 1: TEACHING MORE THAN JUST ENGLISH
[This is a work of fiction. The story is an unadulterated and unabashed attempt to tickle male and perhaps some female fantasies as well. As such, the story may or may not conform entirely with reality. But isn't that the whole point of fantasies--what could be? With historical exceptions, all other locations, events, and characters are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.]
I do not practice nor do I condone any of the sexual acts about which I write, other than straight, heterosexual relationships. Beside the fact that most other forms of sexual behavior are illegal, I still don't judge consenting adults for their sexual preferences except where such behavior is hurtful/harmful to others, such as pedophilia.
None-the-less, many people have FANTASIES of such taboo laden behavior to achieve sexual gratification or whatever, but have no intentions whatsoever of carrying out such behavior in actual practice. That said, if I have struck a particular fantasy of yours, read and enjoy.
NIKKI ... A female teacher with ten years experience, age about 31
TIM ... i8 year old senior boy inone of Nikki's classes
It's difficult to believe that today's the last day of the school year. What's even harder to believe is that a whole decade's past since I first began my high school teaching career! I first taught across the state for eight years and the last two years at this school of about eight hundred students in a small Iowa town of about five thousand people. At 31, I'm still single and uninvolved with anyone at the present time. My students know me as Ms. Norcross, my collegues as Nikki.
I have very dark, black hair and a very shapely body. I stand five feet, ten inches tall. My boobs are a bit more than a handfull each. My waist is proportionaly sized as are my hips and thighs. I also like to sunbathe nude, so I have no tan lines, just an all over, golden brown tan. I've only had two serious affairs to date, one in college, and the other three years ago. The second one was a teacher also, and one of the reasons I left that school. I've dated very little since then and haven't had any cock since that affair broke up.
So, when that eighteen year old senior boy in English IV got a little foxy the last semester of school, I was more than susceptible. I've consciously refrained from any involvement with my students (there have been other opportunities) up 'til now, as such involvement usually ends up disastrously for the teacher of the pair. But, the lack of sex for so long and other circumstances falling just right, I could no longer restrain myself.
With my looks, I've always been the object of male adolescent wet dreams since long before my career began but, I was always able to stay aloof from and deflect such pubescent behavior in the past. As I said, circumstances this time altered that. This time, with my defenses down, I succumbed to the power of sex and lust. My pussy is getting wet now just reliving these erotic thoughts as I relate them to you.
Tim, in my last hour class, had been flirting, or at least attempting to flirt with me for the whole second semester. I'd look up or turn around, only to find him furtively ogling me from the corner of his eye. When I would catch him at it, he would just give me a devilish grin and look back to his books or papers.
On occasion, he'd manage to brush against me as we past each other in the normal interaction of a class period. Once or twice, I caught him staring at my chest into the gap between the buttons on my blouse as I leaned over his desk.
I never dressed provocatively for the school day, and I was decorously covered, top and bottom. But I did dress smartly with frilly blouses, sexy shoes (one of my fetishes), and such. By the second semester, my sexual desert had me parched and starving for physical attention.
Tim's attention began to get to me. At first, I guess, it was unconscious that I began to do things in response to him, such as leaving one or more blouse buttons undone, leaning further over than necessary when giving him help during desk work-study periods, and the like. But this unconscious behavior was about to change.
About half way through the semester, I gave in to my desires and began to consciously respond to Tim. I started wearing slightly more provocative clothing; tighter slacks and shorter dresses, more revealing blouses, my sexiest shoes, and more.
I did this in gradual progression so as not to have an obvious change in clothing style or that such change was in direct response to Tim. But quickly enough, Tim caught on that my behavior was indeed changing and that it was in response to his actions.
He was a very bright student, honor roll and all that. He took full advantage of the opportunities I began to offer him to look down my blouse into my cleavage. My skirts got a bit shorter, revealing much more leg than I normally allowed.
As I just said, Tim was a very bright student, and he was very inventive in dreaming up reasons to stay after class, the last class period of the day, and see me. He would linger behind as the other students left, and then come up to the desk, usually with some question for me.
I'd walk from my hall monitor position, back to the desk after the hall more or less cleared to see what was on Tim's mind (as if I didn't know!). But, I'd surreptitiously, while still facing the hall, undo another blouse button first.
Tim would contrive different ways by which to walk past me and manage to brush against some part of my body, usually a breast brush or a hip brush. On my part, I would back my desk chair out and turn it sideways to face Tim for a "conference."
I'd deliberately cross my legs slowly in order to give him a really good look up my skirt to my sexy panties. And believe me, he eagerly looked, too, quite unabashedly and obviously!
This went on every day for the past six weeks. But yesterday, as we sat facing each other in "conference," and Tim looked up my skirt, there were no panties! He got an extra long look that time, and I don't know if he saw it, but my pussy was definitely wet and shiny.
I thought he was going to lose it then and there and cream his pants. An obvious and instant bulge that was huge, did appear along his leg. He barely made it through the next minute or so before he abruptly said he had to get going. I watched him rush down the hall to the boy's room and I can guess what he did in there. Ahhh, to be ten years younger again!
Now, on this last day, Tim was waiting near my desk as I walked back into the room at the end of the period. He said, "I have two of your poetry books to return," and held them out to me.
As I took them from him, his free hand brushed and then rubbed my hand that accepted the books. His hip brushed mine as I walked past him to place the books on a low shelf behind my desk. My desk was out of the line of sight of the classroom door. Thank God! I'd not have wanted anyone to witness what happened next!
I guess Tim decided to strike while the iron was hot and before his last chance disappeared. He walked up behind me while I was bent over and grabbed my ass from the sides with both hands and pushed that hard bulge tightly up against me.
Although I'd not seen any signs of it a moment ago, I felt his now very rigid cock in my butt crack through our clothes and felt an instant shock of electricity spark through me. His hands went around me and grabbed my boobs in a tight squeeze. He moved his hips up and down a couple of times with a shudder (I think he came, instantly).
I whispered fiercely, "Not here, Tim, please!"
His immediate comeback as he backed off, was, "Where, then?"
"Meet me at my apartment in two hours. I have to stay here and finish some end of school things first."
"Ok, I know where that is, see you then."
I asked in alarm, "How did you know where I live?"
"I followed you home once and have been around some nights watching you through your windows."
I told him, "You naughty boy, I guess I'll have to make sure my window blinds are shut after this."
Tim stepped back up to me, lifted my chin with one hand and gave me a passionate kiss while his other hand slipped between us and grabbed my crotch over my skirt for a really good but quick grope. He then released me and walked out with a dirty grin on his face.
I did, however, notice a large wet spot on the front of his jeans. I don't think he knew yet that his orgasm was showing. The young stud must have once more prematurely shot his wad on contact of his hand with my clothed pussy. With those two orgasms, he must have pumped a ton of cock cream for a spot that large. Poor Boy!
My obligations kept me at school for the next one and a half hours before I could escape to my car in the parking lot. It would be a fifteen minute drive home to my apartment, which did not leave much time to get ready for Tim.
When I got to my building, I found Tim waiting in the lobby, still the premature kid. I told him the apartment number and to give me five minutes before he came up.
I took the elevator up to the fifth floor, all my senses reeling with thoughts of the end of another school term and more importantly, of what lay ahead with Tim, something on the order of a decade my junior. Jesus, had I made a mistake, here?
Well, at least there was no more school until fall and Time was no longer a student.
.... There is more of this story ...