I had a crush on my teacher.

Saying it now feels like no big deal, but at the time I remember it was the hugest thing. It was kind of stupid - boys were allowed to talk about how hot their teachers were, and you couldn’t go a single lunch period sometimes without overhearing some of the bolder ones talking about “how big Ms. Lawson’s ta-tas” were or something. Occasionally a mildly popular guy would claim he had sex with one of his teachers to earn reputation points or something, but he’d quickly get shut down by his classmates and enjoy going back to being one of the less popular ‘full of shit’ guys for at least a few weeks.

But if you were a girl? You were screwed. If you talked about it in front of your friends, it would reach the whole school the next day. If it reached the school, you were officially a crazy horny bitch with an Electra complex. Good luck getting a boyfriend after that.

And if you were like me, and you had a crush on your female teacher ... well, you were extra screwed.

I guess I didn’t have much to lose anyway. I wasn’t exactly one of the most popular girls at school, but my looks would kind of give that away. I was so stereotypical it hurt. Shortish brown hair, a baggy shirt, always clutching your books close to your non-existent chest and presto, you get Mina. Sheltered all her life, the teachers barely notice her, let alone the students, and to top it all off, even the bookworms at Hazelwood High School had a clique, so I was truly on my own.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was Lucy. We were close, but it was one of those things where she was my best friend, but I clearly wasn’t hers. Still, I was grateful to have her around, even if her very presence made me jealous sometimes. It wasn’t enough that of course she was more endowed than me (even though we were in high school, the fact that people our age were judged based on the balls of fat we had on our chests was kind of disgusting). She also was constantly chatting up others as we walked in the halls together, talking with people as they passed by, texting others when we hung out, and ... I just didn’t feel like I was enough for her.

People kept telling me I was just mature for my age. My mom would tell me that at least once a week. Maybe I was, and maybe it was inevitable that instead of one of the dumb boys, I’d fall for Ms. Wagner. And oh my god, did I ever fall for her.

I don’t even know when it began. I know that from the moment I saw her I was shocked by how good she looked, but there was a difference between that and a crush. This was Ms. Wagner’s first year, a point that was not lost on her class - we students could always tell who was older and who was younger. Part of it was their attitude, part of it was their looks, and part of it was their aura too. Ms. Wagner had this look to her that was equal parts intimidating and just downright gorgeous. She had straight brown hair that she always had done up in this ponytail that told her class she was all business, but there was no fooling me, especially in her eyes - she clearly had a more childish side, or a more mischievous side or something. Add to that the freckles on her face and her knowing smirk she’d give all too often, and a face like that would begin to wear anyone down, given time.

I wasn’t the first student she’d unknowingly seduced with that smile. In fact, within the first few days of her teaching at the school, I had overheard a bunch of the boys in my homeroom class talking about her at lunch.

“What do you think?” Quincy, the leader of their rat pack, asked his ragtag team. Lucy and I were standing in line for lunch and couldn’t help overhearing them.

“I’m thinking ... thirty? Twenty-eight?” Johnny, the cutest one of the group, shrugged.

“Thirty?! Ms. Wagner, thirty? C’mon, dude.” Quincy laughed at him. “She looks like she could have graduated from Hazelwood last year.”

“Bull-shit!” Artie, another one of them, joined in.

“Got something to say, Artie?” Quincy challenged him. “I’m not saying she’s fuckin’ thirteen or anything.”

“What’s going on?” Lucy asked me, eyeing the boys.

I shrugged. “I think they’re talking about my homeroom teacher, Ms. Wagner.”

“What’s she teach?”

“English.”

She stared at the ground in thought for a few seconds. “Is she the one with the hips?”

“The what?”

“No? Maybe I’m thinking of another teacher.” Lucy replied thoughtfully.

“I ... don’t know,” I managed. “I don’t spend a lot of time looking at the hips of my teachers.”

Lucy laughed at me. “Mina, come on. If she’s the one I’m thinking of, you can’t not see them. Check it out. Save my spot.” She sauntered over to the boys at the lunch table and posed coquettishly in front of Artie.

“Hiiiii, Artie,” she purred.

“Hey Luce. What do you want?” Artie asked.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, and was wondering, who’s Ms. Wagner? I feel like I’ve seen her before.”

“Oh. Um, she’s that new English teacher. Kinda young-looking, the one with the ponytail,” he replied.

Lucy pretended to think for a bit. “I think I’ve seen her around. What does her body look like?”

“Huh?” Artie asked, with Lucy only staring at him in response. “Well, y’know, she has ... she’s...”

“Hips. The one with the hips.” Quincy practically burped.

“Thank you,” Lucy replied merrily, skipping back in line, leaving a confused Artie staring at her. “See?” she asked me.

“I guess,” I laughed. The boys were now staring at me and with no doubt a blush on my face I turned away.

Lucy smirked at me. “You’re getting attentionnnn,” she sang.

“It’s just weird,” I awkwardly replied.

“You should ask out Johnny sometime. I think he likes you.” Lucy had the courtesy to say that under her breath.

“Isn’t it his responsibility to ask me out?” I asked.

“It’s 2021. Fuck gender roles.” Lucy flipped her hair dramatically.

“Wow, I had no idea I was talking to Susan B. Anthony,” I mumbled. My mind was definitely not on Johnny.

If I could have cursed Lucy to never fill my head with an idea again, I would have, because the next morning the first thing I noticed were Ms. Wagner’s hips. Some people just had those kinds of bodies, and now that I was looking at hers, I had to admit I was surprised I didn’t notice it sooner. She had such beautiful wide hips that her walk was forced to be a saunter, like some kind of sexy tease. I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose, just a consequence of what God gave her.

And now, I was looking at her full body, and that was the first day I knew I had a crush on her. Not only did she have an impressive set of hips, but also a pretty impressive chest on top of it. I still didn’t get the appeal of boobs, but if every single other person in this school was going to pretend that boobs were a measure of hotness, then I could now understand why everyone in the school was talking about her. The mischievousness in her eyes now took on a whole new meaning - combined with her walk, it was clear this woman was built to have kids.

Imagine how lucky it would be to be her husband.

I clenched my teeth and immediately tore my eyes away from her to my desk. Oh my God, was I breathing heavier? How weak was I? Class hadn’t even begun yet. I kept my head down until I had to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance, and after, attendance.

Some teachers liked to have fun with their attendance, making students say what they did last night or even make their students say their names in a pattern. Miss Wagner was a fan of the classic - ‘name, here, name, here.’

“Steve?”

“Here.”

“Nami?”

“Here.”

“Mina?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”

I turned pink and eyed the desk again. That was possibly the most I’d ever said to a teacher in my entire time at this school, and I wasn’t even aware when it was exiting my mouth. I don’t know if anyone was looking at me but Miss Wagner just kept going, down the list of names. Then afterwards, she would stand up. And I would see more of her body.

Oh my God. What was happening to me?

“Hey Lucy?”

“What?” Lucy asked me, taking a bite of her sandwich, pretending she was studying like me.

“How many boyfriends have you had?”

Lucy gave me a smile, a ‘where is this going’ smile. “My fair share,” she said with an awkward chuckle. “Funny you should bring it up, I had three boys ask to go out with me on the same day yesterday. Three in one day! I think I hit a new record. Summer has been making these boys thirsty.”

“Wow, congratulations,” I replied, my heart not in it.

“I’m thinking I might go out with Artie, actually.” she continued. “I don’t know. I still have to think about it, see if he’s ... you know...”

“Not scum?”

“He’s a boy, so my odds are low,” she laughed. “Why do you ask?”

“I-”

“Ooh, are you actually gonna go out with Johnny?” she interrupted excitedly.

“What? No. He never even asked me out,” I replied a little impatiently.

“Oh. Well, he should. You know, the only reason I never asked if he wanted to do something sometime was because I let you have-”

“You let me have him, yeah. How many times are you going to tell me that?” I asked, annoyed. I let a beat of silence flow between us. “I was just wondering how you know when you’re falling for someone.”

Lucy sighed heavily. “Okay, so there’s falling for someone, and there’s, like, falling for someone. I think the first time you feel like you fall for a boy, you won’t know what it is, but you’ll know it’s something, you know?”

I nodded, signalling for her to continue.

“So, the first time I really fell for a boy was probably Jack, last year.”

“Jack Marks?”

“That’s the one,” she replied with a smile. “And at first it was like, ‘yeah, I like you’ but after a while it just kept getting more and more powerful. I couldn’t look at his face without picturing his abs. I kept feeling my heart beat faster when he was around. And - ahh-ha-ha...” she trailed off nervously, looking around. “Okay, can I tell you something and you swear it won’t leave us?”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied.

“So ... that’s when I actually started, you know ... touching myself.”

I gasped. “Masturbating?”

She lowered an eyebrow. “Sure, if you wanna be a medical dictionary about it. Anyway, things actually got kinda bad, and I ended up forcing myself to stop being in the same ... what’s the word ... starts with a V...”

“Vicinity?”

“Thanks - vicinity as him. I don’t think we ever actually met, and it wasn’t like he was going to fall for me as soon as he met me. At most, I was just some girl he’d seen a couple of times.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” I lamely replied, looking down.

Lucy looked at me for a couple of seconds. “Do you...”

I shrugged. “I can’t tell yet.”

Lucy squealed and clapped her hands together. “Oh my god oh my god! Finally! Who is he?”

I sighed in turn. “Okay, nothing leaves this room, right?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Promise?”

“Mina, I promise,” she said solemnly.

“It’s ... not a he.”

The silence was deafening. “Oh,” she finally replied. “ ... Huh. Okay, just to make sure I’m covering all my bases, is it, like, me or something?”

“It’s not you,” I laughed, weirdly out of breath from the nervousness of telling her this.

“Okay, cool,” she also laughed alongside me. “Because, like, I have no problems with, y’know, that, but if it was like, with me, then we’re gonna have a problem, you know?”

I wasn’t sure what she meant but I thought the best course of action was to ignore that. “Not only that but ... it’s an older girl.”

“Wow,” Lucy laughed. “You set your sights high, huh? Wait, does she go to our school?”

I was in too deep to back out now, but even still, there was no way in hell I was spilling my guts to that extent. “Lucy, I don’t get out. At all. Of course she goes to our school.”

“Okay, so it’s an older girl that goes to Hazelwood...” Lucy trailed off, thinking.

“And if it’s okay, I’d prefer if we ... didn’t play twenty questions about who,” I continued. “I think this is just my Jack. She’s pretty unavailable and I don’t want people knowing I was attracted to her.”

“Uh, yeah, okay, cool,” she awkwardly replied. “But hey, maybe she feels the same way and you two will actually end up dating. It’s high school, there are no rules.”

“I really doubt it,” I answered. “Plus, we do have rules, the ones set by the teachers.”

She shrugged with a smile. “Yeah, but, fuck teachers.”

It was a few more days of pure hell in homeroom before I had been worn down. Every day became a little bit harder as I had to struggle with it. At first it was just denial - at first, denial that I actually had a crush on my teacher, then denial that it was here to stay.

It was almost pathetic how easy it was for her to wear me down. I would stare intently at her while she stood at the front of the class and just ... taught, with that voice of hers. She had the perfect blend of authoritative voice and one of those ‘one of the girls’ voices. She almost had a lilt of Valley Girl to her voice, which made the fact that she was in charge of us that much more sexy for some reason.

Sexy. I never used that word beforehand. Now I was thinking about it a lot. Sexy, sexy, sexy.

It was like a drug. It wasn’t just her curvy, filled out, voluptuous body that was sexy. It was her voice. I needed a bigger hit, and I needed it to be addressed to me. Scared as hell but knowing I needed to do this, I raised my hand.

Even though she was only a few weeks into this job, she knew that I wasn’t the type to raise my hand. She stopped mid-sentence and looked at me. My heart skipped a beat.

“Yes, Mina?” she asked melodically.

“C-could I p-please go to the washroom?” I managed to choke out.

She smiled at me. I had to hold my breath to stop my quickening breathing from showing. “Of course you can,” she told me warmly.

Slowly and clumsily, I stood up from my dumbly-designed seat-desk and walked calmly out of the classroom. As soon as I was out, I was practically hyperventilating and ran to the washroom.

A heat was surging through me. I never had felt this kind of heat before, but now I just wanted the heat to flourish. I slammed the stall door closed and immediately rested my head against the wall.

This woman had barely even acknowledged my existence, and yet ... I felt a throbbing down below that I had never felt before. A hunger. A heat.

I had never done this before. I undid and lowered my jeans and sat down on the toilet, experimentally running my hand over my left thigh. Every time I ran my hand up my thigh, I’d get further up. Closer to it. I was so turned on, so sensitive, that even the first time I ran my hand against the area next to my labia, I nearly cried out.

I was going to do it. I was going to learn how to masturbate, here in this grimy washroom, because I wanted to ... do things with my teacher. A primal need in me had sprung forth, a side of me that I never even knew existed.

I rubbed my outer lips for almost a full minute longer before I slowly slipped a finger inside myself. As soon as I did, my mouth became locked in an ‘O’ shape and I leaned back, closing my eyes and picturing Ms. Wagner.

She would give me the most intense look, and bite her lower lip as she looked me up and down. “You want me to kiss you?” she’d ask teasingly in her authoritative yet flirty voice. She’d reach up and undo her ponytail, letting her hair fly free, perfectly framing her face. She’d start undoing the buttons on her shirt. “You’re such a naughty girl, lusting after your own teacher,” she’d purr, unflinchingly grabbing the back of my head, giving me a small smile. “Go on then. Show me how much you want me.”

I was well beyond using two fingers now. It was a struggle to hold back my moans, with my hands feeling out the patterns and figuring out what felt the best. I had discovered I liked using two fingers over three, and that if I periodically rubbed my clit, not too hard, but went back to fingering myself after about half a minute of clit attention, it made the fingering feel so much better. I was figuring myself out, I was being diligent. I was being a good little schoolgirl.

One of my feet was up against the stall wall as my first orgasm approached. My mouth was still in an ‘O’ shape, my eyes squeezed shut, my imagination overflowing with images of Ms. Wagner making out with me and taking off her shirt. I could barely breathe when I exploded, and couldn’t hold myself back. To this day I hope to God there was no one else in that washroom, because not only did I moan, I said more.

“Oh, Ms. Wagner!!!”

It took me a full thirty seconds after I came to realize that I had actually said that. After giving a silent prayer that no one else was there, I lay there in the afterglow, only deciding against doing it again when I realized what time it was. When I got back to class, I quietly slunk back to my desk, feeling the shame of what I had done settling in, and tried to get caught up with the lesson as quickly as possible.

When Ms. Wagner saw me for the first time since I came back, she gave me a small smile to see me back. My vagina throbbed, and I swallowed hard.

So, welcome to my sexual awakening, I guess. From that day forward I masturbated at least once a day. As fun as it was to masturbate at school seconds after seeing her, I very rarely masturbated at school anymore - I’m sure word would have gotten out that there was a girl going to the washroom every homeroom period and crying out Ms. Wagner’s name in sexual bliss, and that wasn’t going to end well.

Lucy kept asking to get more information about the person I had a crush on, and that went about as well for her as one would expect. Over time, I just accepted that, like most high schoolers, she was nosy and loved drama, so I just talked to her less to make sure I wouldn’t slip up and say it.

I thought that there were no other real changes to my life (thank god the physical effects Ms. Wagner had on me plateaued instead of getting more and more intense), though it’s hard to see yourself from the outside sometimes. After another week or so, as class was about to finish up, Ms. Wagner approached me during a work period.

“Mina, could you see me after class please? I have some notes about your last assignment.”

One or two of the class jokesters gave an, “Ooooh,” as if I was in trouble, but I couldn’t even focus on them. I looked up into Ms. Wagner’s eyes and could barely do any more than nod. Satisfied, she went back to her desk and sat down. I was amazed that with her gifts that she could even sit in a chair.

There were only five minutes left in class but even then I couldn’t think or process anything. She wanted to see me? Why? Was I caught, did someone tell her about that time I moaned her name a week ago? Did she feel the same way? Did she want to tell me off right there? I was practically squirming in my seat, half in fear, half in anticipation.

Whatever it was, Ms. Wagner wanted to see me. In private. This was a blessing and a curse - I had a good excuse to look into her eyes the whole time she wanted to see me, but this also meant I had to look into Ms. Wagner’s eyes and not lose my composure after a few seconds.

My mind was a cold blaze by the time the bell rang. I almost jumped when I heard it. Everyone else started calmly filing out of the room, but I just sat there, practically paralyzed, unsure of what I should do. While I sat there overthinking to hell, everyone quickly left and Ms. Wagner, satisfied that there was no one there but myself and her, quietly shut the door and sat back down at her desk.

“Do you mind coming here?” she asked. Like a zombie, I obeyed, never talking, never even making eye contact with her. I approached her desk and she seemingly waited until I dragged my eyes up from the floor.

She had the most beautiful face on the planet. Whether she wore those reading glasses she kept on her desk or not, her face was constantly the image of perfection. Her freckles and natural blush, splashed across her face, made every single feature of hers pop. Her beautiful deep brown eyes, her nose, her fun-loving smile ... everything about her was just so damn sexy.

And now that I was this close to her, something else became apparent ... her smell. It practically made me dizzy. It didn’t smell like perfume, it didn’t even smell like anything conventionally ‘good’ like flowers or shampoo or something ... I swear I was just smelling her pheromones. Something about her smell made me want to reach forward and just ... devour her. I just wanted to reach forward and touch her.

“I’m sorry that I called you here, I hope you can understand,” she began, smiling sympathetically at me. She gestured towards a chair. “You can go ahead and have a seat if you want.”

Wordlessly, I obeyed. Her eyes followed me. I was so turned on by her.

She waited until I sat down to continue. “So, I’ve been going over your past few assignments, in-class work, and I’ve noticed that recently ... you’ve been kind of slipping.” She took out a few of my past assignments as evidence and laid them out before me. “I have the feeling that you’re a smart girl, but it just sort of seems that something has been ... kind of off lately.”

My face scrunched up. Me, doing poorly? I may not have been a class genius or something, but I never even had to try for these classes. Clearly some sort of mistake had taken place. I can’t just sit here looking dumb, especially not in front of the woman I like.

“And I hope this is okay, but I asked around, both your past and current teachers - only because I want to make sure you succeed - and sure enough, they all remember you as a bright girl but your other current teachers tell me the same thing is going on. I realize I may have not been your teacher for long so I totally get if I don’t know you as well as the others and this is weird or something, but I just wanted to check and make sure everything is going well with you.”

I looked her in the eye, my expression giving away how I felt about this situation. I looked from her to my assignments. It was still kind of early in the school year, but sure enough, my assignments from last month had good grades across the board, and my more recent assignments ... not so much.

Ms. Wagner was eyeing me intensely. Her scent was still capturing me. It took all of my focus not to let my mind wander off to my fantasies again. “Is everything going okay with you, Mina?”

“Y-yes, I’m f-fine.” I managed.

“There’s no ... problematic situations going on at home or anything? If something is stressing you out, you can tell me.” Her voice dripped with concern for me.

“I w-would want to tell you. If something was going on. Which it isn’t. Nothing bad. Like, nothing to note,” I stumbled.

“Okay,” she said resignedly. “Is it just a tough month for you? Or maybe you’re in a rut or something. Unless you find you’re not understanding the class content.”

I was fine at understanding the class content. If this was happening, it was clearly a fluke, maybe I just wasn’t adjusting too well to the school year or something. I opened my mouth to speak.

“Because if you’re not, I do have sophomore lunches free,” she continued, smiling at me. “I usually sit here alone eating my own lunch anyway, so it’s not putting me out. You’re a special student and I really want to see you shine.”

My mind stopped in its tracks. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes. Was she asking me to be alone with her? Yes. I wanted this. Yes.

“I hope it doesn’t come across as me being too controlling or anything,” she laughed, practically to herself. “We could start small. If you think you want a little boost, we could do Tuesdays at lunch here. I can’t really help you with your other classes, but I can at least give you some resources and private tutoring here, on my own time, if you’d want that.”

I felt my mouth go dry. She was offering for us to spend time together. Alone. Just the two of us. “I c-could see the benefit of that, if you think it would help,” I nervously mumbled.

“Great!” I could feel her eyes dancing and penetrating my soul. “We can start next Tuesday is that works for you. We’ll just cover the material from your last few assignments, catch you up to speed, see how we feel from there. Does that sound good?”

I could only nod dumbly. I was going to get private tutoring. Private, one-on-one lessons. This had to mean something. Right?

The first lunch meeting went as expected - she actually just went over coursework. But this time, there was no class, no sea of people I could get lost in. Now it was a fact she was only talking to me and me alone. It was just us two, with no excuse not to stare at her eyes and see hers meet mine right back.

Her smell was even more noticeable when it was just the two of us. I’m sure there was something flowery that she applied to herself - maybe it was perfume, maybe it was just her shampoo or something - but that was just the frosting on the cake.

She smelled like desire. One whiff, or preferably inhale - of her smell and you’d fall under her spell. I couldn’t describe what it was she even smelled like, but I know that whenever I breathed, I was just reminded of my blazing desire for her. My ... pussy was throbbing. Itching.

“ ... To me, that makes it the biggest theme of To Kill a Mockingbird,” she continued, so devoted to her lesson. “I mean, the beauty of English is that whatever we feel the strongest, whatever matters the most to us, that becomes ‘the most important thing’ to us.”

“I agree entirely,” I replied, trying my hardest not to say it dreamily. Spending all this time around her meant I was getting better at talking to her. No more stuttering, and plus, I was able to share actual opinions with her, whenever I could actually focus on the lesson, which I had to admit wasn’t often.

“So, what to you is the most important theme of the book?” Ms. Wagner asked, pulling up a chair in front of my desk and sitting down in it.

I had practically rehearsed for this moment. I let my mouth go on autopilot, something I had felt any English teacher “wanted” to hear from their students, while I got to drink in her image. Her freckles, her intoxicating smile, the way her eyes narrowed when she gave me one of her cheekier smiles. She was just perfect.

“You know, I was hoping you were going to bring that up,” she told me after I finished. “To be honest, and this stays between us...” She touched my hand, which was just sitting on my desk minding its own business, as she talked. “ ... I think a lot of student miss that kind of subtext. I knew you had a gift for English, I just knew it. I’m so glad we’re doing this.”

My eyes were on her hand. Her hand. The one that was touching mine. Her hand ... was on my hand. I could feel her warmth, and it felt good. It felt right. I could feel my cheeks burning as my gaze lifted back up to her eyes. She was still talking, but her voice was just kind of fuzzy. I felt my heart beating faster. She touched me. This was it.

She gave me one of her trademark smirks as she stood back up and walked back to the board. Her hips complemented her every move. They were so wide, so perfect, she couldn’t help but parade her body around with every step she took. “I think that’s about all the time we have, but I would say our time together was very productive, wasn’t it?”

“Incredibly.” I replied immediately. “I learned so much. Thank you, Ms. Wagner. You have a way with words that just makes me understand this stuff so well, you’re such a great teacher.”

She gave me another sexy smirk, this time with one eyebrow lowered. “Okay, what is it you want from me?” she joked. We both laughed, but I knew. Deep down I was hoping she knew, too. Because if she knew and she was acting this casual, then maybe she ... wanted it too. Wanted me.

I gathered my things together and smiled warmly at her. “Genuinely, though, I’m really glad you’re my teacher. Same time next week?”

“I mean, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she laughed. “Though don’t forget to have your report done, okay? I don’t want all of our hard work to go to waste.”

“I’ll have it done,” I promised and left the classroom.

I thought that when I left I’d suddenly feel free, like the object of my desire is gone and I could breathe without thinking of her again, but the desire only burned brighter. Kids filled the halls, trying to get to class. Lunch period was basically over. All these kids, in the hallways. That’s all they were. Immature. Infants. What the hell could they know of a love like mine? The simple fact was, they couldn’t. They were too concerned with trivial matters, while I had found the real thing.

And she touched me.

My cheeks burning with desire, I rushed to the washroom. I was no longer embarrassed, in fact ... I felt empowered. I was doing this. No one was going to stop me.

With no hesitancy, I hiked up my skirt - a little overly feminine for me usually, normally I’d prefer to save this for special occasions, but I wanted to look good for her - and lowered my underwear.