Our regular teacher, Mrs Chivers, had been pregnant for ... well it seemed like forever, so it was no surprise when the head brought in a substitute one morning. He introduced her as Miss Beal but I barely heard him. I was in love, instantly, deeply, and irrevocably in love.

She had the most gorgeous face, long blonde hair, piercingly blue eyes, and a slender figure with what looked like amazing, pert little breasts. She didn’t look more than a couple of years older than me, about eighteen, but I guessed she must have been at least twenty-two to be a teacher.

For the next week, I sat in her classes, moon-eyed, gazing at her loveliness, drinking in every hint of a curve of her lovely body, relishing every tiny smile on her perfect face.

At night I masturbated to visions of her loveliness, whispering her name as I came. And then afterward I would feel a crushing guilt that I was sullying her perfection with my disgusting behaviour. And then I’d do it again.

I wasn’t stalking her at school, not really, but I was always aware when she was around. One day I saw her with armfuls of books and papers walking along the corridor. Some jerk jostled her and the papers fell to the floor. In a flash I was there, at her feet, picking them up.

I was so, so close to her and even her slender bare calves were enough to give me a little chubby.

As I leaned back to stand up my head was level with her crotch. I couldn’t see anything at all but my mind supplied endless visions of what might be underneath the few thin layers of clothing mere inches from my face: soft blonde fur covering an undoubtedly perfect pussy. Or a little, neatly trimmed triangle. Or, best of all, completely bald and soft and plump and...

By the time I got to my feet, I had a boner you could have hung your coat on. I stood there holding the papers in front of it.

“Thank you, Luke,” she said with a grateful smile. “You can tell your Mom from me that she did a fine job raising you.” I was simply overjoyed that she’d remembered my name.

She reached out and took hold of the papers but naturally, I was reluctant to let them go. There was a brief and embarrassing tug-of-war which I either had to let her win or risk pulling her off her feet. As she took the papers I glanced down and, when I saw how fucking obvious my hardon was, I felt my face turning crimson. When I looked at her face again her eyes were just then looking up too. Jesus Christ! She must have seen it!! She simply smiled a bit more widely at me as she added the papers to her load.

“I could carry those for you if you like miss?” I offered, hopefully.

“That’s all right. You’ve done more than enough,” she said and I could have sworn that I heard her giggle as she walked off. Fuck, I thought, what did she mean by that?

Two days later I was leaving school and I saw her bending over by her car, staring at the ground. I hurried over. “Everything OK, Miss?” I asked, looking at the wet ground and seeing nothing.

“I dropped my keys. I think they must have bounced off my foot and gone under the car. You must think I’m the clumsiest woman on earth,” she said with a laugh.

“No Miss,” I replied seriously. “I think that you’re ... perfect.” Again I felt my face burning. Why the fuck did I have to say that? Perfect?! I threw myself to the ground and spotted the keys, so I wriggled forward until I could reach them.

When I stood up, my prize held proudly in my hand, she looked me up and down with the same look that I sometimes got from my mom when I did something stupid but cute: a mixture of fondness and dismay.

“Oh, Luke. Look at the state of you,” she said, taking a cotton handkerchief out of her handbag and dabbing at the muck on my shirt. I was in absolute heaven having her touch me, and the thought that she might continue on down to my pants had me hard in seconds.

“You’d better do the rest,” she said and I swear she looked down at my crotch as she said it! With a huge grin, she handed me the cloth and took her keys.

“Thanks, Luke. You’ve saved me again,” she said and patted the top of my arm before getting into her car and driving off.

I stood there in a daze of happiness, looking down at the scrap of cloth in my hand, and with the feeling of her hand on my shoulder still blazing in my mind. There was only one thought in my head though: she’d seen my erection and it made her smile!!!!

She mostly dressed very conservatively but one day she came in wearing a light summer dress. It clung to her curves and, as she walked around the class discussing our homework assignment, I was mesmerized by the little glimpses I got of the curve of her hips, her shapely legs, and even her cute little butt. And then she stood in front of a window and the sunlight lit up the back of the dress rendering the front almost transparent. I thought my dick might burst it was so hard.

When the class ended I was worried about standing up, what with the lump I had in my pants. Eventually figuring that the chances were that nobody would be looking at a sixteen-year-old boy’s groin, I reluctantly stood up and left.

In the corridor, as I was walking past Joey Philips, I heard his whispered comment to his buddies, “What a slut, you could see everything!”

I was outraged, “What did you call her?!” I demanded. He looked amazed at the temerity of the way I was talking to him and his brow furrowed as he tried to remember.

“A slut?” he offered uncertainly, clearly bemused as to why I should take offense at the word. I flew at him, fists flailing ineffectually apart from one that slapped him across the face.

Then, without putting too fine a point on it, he creamed me! In my righteous indignation, the blows didn’t seem to hurt too badly and I sank to the floor and curled into a little ball. He took a few final kicks at my back and then lost interest, thank God!

I’d just registered that I wasn’t being hit anymore and was tentatively uncurling when I saw Miss Beal coming out of the classroom. There were a few people still lingering, probably hoping for some more entertainment, but they drifted off as she arrived.

She helped me up and just the feel of her soft hand on my elbow made me shiver with delight. “Are you OK?” she asked as I dusted myself off.

“I’m fine,” I said, bravely I thought.

“Are you sure?” she asked and led me back into the class and sat me in her chair. I felt a jolt of excitement as I realized that it was still warm! From her lovely bottom!

“What was all that about?” she asked as she looked at the marks on my face. I couldn’t think how to tell her without repeating what he’d said.

“I can’t tell you, Miss.”

“Come on now, Luke” she urged. “it can’t be all that terrible.”

“He said something bad about you,” I told her reluctantly. A strange expression came over her face and I couldn’t place it.

“You attacked a guy nearly twice your size because he said something bad about me?” she asked and her expression now was a mixture of incredulity and amusement.

I thought I needed to make it clear that I wasn’t a complete idiot. “He called you a slut.” I said as if that explained everything.

“God, you’re so sweet,” she said softly and her hand brushed gently over my cheek as she said it. “I’ll get some witch-hazel for that eye before it bruises too badly.” She went to the first-aid kit but came back empty-handed.

“No luck,” she told me. “But I’ve got some at my place...?” I nodded vigorously: any excuse to spend more time with her.

In the car on the way to her home, we were so close that I could smell her perfume and I was in a daze of utter bliss.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said, clearing a space on the couch for me. “I’m still getting myself sorted out.”

“No, no, it’s perfect,” I babbled: I could see through the door to her bedroom and the bed ... where she slept ... maybe in the nude...?

“I’m sorry?” I asked, vaguely aware that she’d said something to me.

“I just wanted to know if you’d like a drink ... a soda or something?”

“No, no. I’m fine,” I told her, sure that if I tried to hold a glass my shaking hands would spill most of it.

“OK. I’ll just get the witch-hazel,” she said, heading off to the kitchen and reaching up to the cupboards. As she did her skirt rode up and I had a lovely view of her legs. As she found what she was after I had to wrench my eyes away before she caught me staring.

She came back with a bottle and some cotton wool and knelt in front of me.

As she dabbed it onto my face I could see the tops of her breasts down the front of her blouse and I was horrified when my dick began to get hard. It was only a foot or so away from her. How could she fail to notice it?! But thankfully she seemed not to see it and just finished patching me up.

“There,” she said, leaning back and checking my face,” That’s better. I’m just going to get changed and then I’ll run you home.”

She went off to her bedroom and my heart skipped a few beats when I saw that she’d left the door open a little. Through the gap, I could see a mirror and, in its reflection, I saw Miss Beal taking her blouse off. I tried to turn away but my eyes were having none of it.

Under the blouse, she had on a white bra that cradled the bottom half of her beautiful breasts leaving the rest all bare. My dick was so hard it kind of hurt a little. And then she took the skirt off! I couldn’t believe how wonderful she looked: long slender legs and a tiny triangle of white covering what I knew must be her pussy.

I was having real trouble breathing and my heart was hammering in my chest fit to burst. And then she turned around and I saw her ass! The panties only had a little triangle of material at the top and I could see almost all of her butt cheeks. For a second I thought I was probably the luckiest boy on earth ... and then I let out a tiny squeal in the back of my throat. “No, no, no, no, no.” I hissed frantically and I stared in horror at my pulsating dick as it pumped load after load of cum into my briefs.

I looked around desperately for something to mop it up with but before I could find anything likely I saw a wet patch seeping through my pants. What had been a perfect moment: seeing the girl of my dreams almost naked, had turned into a nightmare. I looked up and saw her standing in the gap of the doorway, still in her underwear. She mouthed ‘Oops’ at me with a wonderful naughty smile and then closed the door.

I sat there, knowing that she was about to reappear. When she did she’d know exactly what had happened and my life would be over. I couldn’t stop the tears as they ran down my face and I’d decided I’d just leave and run home instead. Just as I stood up the door opened again and she came out, still smiling.

“Sorry about that Luke, I didn’t--” Her words cut off as she saw the expression on my face and my tears. “What’s wrong?” she asked with such concern in her voice that I completely cracked up. “I’m sorry,” I blubbed. “I’m so, so sorry.” She looked bemused for a while and then her eyes looked downwards and saw the now huge wet patch. “Oh,” she said softly. “Oh, I see.”

I put my hands over my eyes and bawled at the utter unfairness of it all. If there was one person in the world I wanted to impress it was her. And here I was, crying my eyes out with cum soaking through my pants!

Then I felt her arm around me and, just for a second, I thought that maybe she wasn’t completely appalled and disgusted.

“It’s OK Luke. It happens to all men sometimes,” she said softly, stroking my back. “In a way, it’s a compliment ... I suppose.”

She was being so lovely about it but that seemed to make it worse somehow, and my sobbing just got worse. She hugged me tighter and her face was so close to my ear I could feel her breath on me. “You’re very sweet you know,” she whispered and then kissed me on the cheek.

Her soft lips on my skin were like a switch turning off my tears. I lowered my hands and looked at her to see if she was making fun of me, but she just smiled incredibly sweetly and brushed the tears from my cheeks.

“Go into the bathroom, take off those things, and pass them out to me. I’ll hand wash them and put them in the dryer. There’s a robe you can wear hanging on the back of the door. OK?”

“OK,” I replied, hugely grateful that my voice didn’t crack.

I did exactly as she asked. I ended up having to pass her the shirt as well because that was wet too. Her robe was a pink satiny thing that didn’t even reach halfway down my thighs. It could not have been more girly, but it felt amazing on my skin. I tried to ignore that as I plucked up my courage to leave the bathroom.

“Are you OK, Luke?” I heard through the door.

“Yes ... Miss,” I answered,

“Maybe you’d better call me Susan,” she said and, even with everything that had happened, my heart soared: Susan, she wants me to call her Susan! Buoyed up, I opened the door and stepped out.

Susan put her hands to her mouth but I could see her eyes twinkling as she suppressed her laughter.

“I’m sorry I haven’t got anything more ... manly,” she managed, but I could still hear the giggles. “But, to be fair, you have got the legs for it.”

She held her hands out for my clothes and I gave them to her. While she dealt with those I sat on the couch and felt sorry for myself. I guess I was still looking pretty miserable when she came back because she gave me that head-tilted, sympathetic look.

“Do you want me to ring your parents and explain that you’ll be a bit late?” she offered. She handed me her phone and I added myself under ‘Luke’.

“Hello Mrs Farady. This is Luke’s teacher. It’s nothing to worry about but he’s been in a bit of a tussle-- No, no, he’s fine, just a few bruises. If it’s OK I’ll clean him up, so he’ll be a little late home.” There was a pause. “No, it’s no trouble at all ... Bye then.”

“That’s fine,” she told me as she came and sat next to me. I must have still looked very sorry for myself because she put an arm around my shoulders.

“Honestly Luke, you shouldn’t worry about it,” she said, looking into my eyes. “It was my fault really,” she added quietly. I frowned in puzzlement at her. “I knew you could see me while I got changed,” she confessed. “I loved having you look at me...”