Teacher's pet

TEACHER’S PET (part 3)

I’m having an even harder time staying focused today. With yesterday’s events still fresh in my mind, I wasn’t able to catch a wink of sleep last night. In fact, I spent most of the night touching myself, trying to rid myself of the haunting visions of Ms Brahms, without much success.

And now, here I am again: the last period of the day, lusting after my English teacher like never before. Is it my imagination, or is her skirt shorter, her blouse even tighter than yesterday? She stands there, in front of the class, like a perfect, living Greek statue. I keep hoping that my inexplicable behaviour yesterday hasn’t given her the wrong idea, that she hasn’t given up on me, and that she will still give me a chance. A chance to do what, I’m still not entirely sure; who’s to say that I won’t run away a second time, blowing any possibility I might still have after yesterday? I had been afraid that Ms. Brahms would ignore me during class, but she acts as if nothing has happened. If anything, she’s even more overtly sexual than usual: she keeps glancing at me, making sly, ambiguous remarks, and bending down at every occasion, showing off her red lace bra or miniscule panties. The boy next to me has a very visible bulge in his pants: I can’t say I blame him.

I understand almost nothing about the lesson itself, only picking up small fragments here and there, carried away by the musicality of her voice and the soft pouting of her lips. I’m even more turned on than yesterday, but with an immense amount of effort, I keep from touching myself. If I want to ride the waves of lust after class, I need to come prepared.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the lesson ends. Around me as usual, students get up and leave. I take more time to pack up my things, deliberately stalling, hoping to catch my name from the luscious lips of my teacher. Ms. Brahms is checking her notithoithout looking up: she doesn’t seem to notice me. I get up and start to walk to the door: still nothing. At the door, I stop, take a deep breath, and wait.

One second.

Two seconds.

“Lucy?”

I sigh, relieved. Slowly, I turn around and look her in the eyes.

“Yes, Miss Brahms?”

She’s standing there, seductively. This time, I know she’s doing it on purpose. I feel myself getting even wetter as I look at her like this, the two of us alone in the classroom. Without saying a word, I close the door behind me. She smiles, briefly.

“I would like to apologize, Lucy, about yesterday. I was out of line and I didn’t mean to impose myself on you.”

I hadn’t expected an apology. For a moment, I don’t know what to say. I mumble “That’s okay,” as I feel my courage escape me. I take a step back and reach for the door, ready to open it and leave.

“It’s just…”

I stop. She looks genuinely uncertain of what to say next. I realize she is just as nervous as I am, and that my actions yesterday have confused her much as me. I realize, too, that her behaviour in class was, for the most part, just an act, and that the “real” Ms. Brahms is standing before me now. I decide to take action.

“Ms. Brahms?”

Her eyes light up. “Yes, Lucy?”

I walk over to her, softly biting my index finger like an innocent schoolgirl. I grab the hem of my skirt and start playing with it.

“I’ve been a bad girl, Ms. Brahms.”

She’s perplexed, for a moment. Then, she realizes what I’m doing, and her face clears up. Within seconds, she’s taken the stance of the seductive school teacher again, affecting a reproaching look that makes me swoon.

“Have you? Tell me about it.”

I twirl around her, looking at her with wide, innocent eyes, a sly smile on my face.

“Sometimes…” – and I lean in, lightly touching her body with mine – “…I think about you, and then I touch myself.”

She looks at me, letting her eyes wander from top to bottom.

“Really? Where?”

“Right here…”

I let my right hand trail its way down from my breasts to my stomach, and deeper down to the wetness between my legs. I let it linger there, slowly stroking my pussy through the soaked fabric of my panties. Ms. Brahms stares at it, seemingly unperturbed.

“I see. And what is it you imagine about me, as you do that?”

I lean in closer, practically rubbing myself against her. I must say her act is excellent, playing the strict, emotionally detached teacher to the point of absolute frustration. In return, I do my best to play the naïve, inexperienced schoolgirl.

“I think… about your breasts. You have beautiful breasts, Ms Brahms.” I grab her right breast with my left hand, feeling her hard nipple through the thin fabric of her blouse and bra. “I imagine I’m touching them, just like this… Squeezing them… Feeling your nipples… Oh, Ms Brahms, they’re so hard!”

She moans. I have her right where I want her… or maybe she has me, it’s hard to tell. I proceed to unbutton her blouse, pulling it over her shoulders and arms until it falls on the floor. I reach round to unfasten her bra.

“Stop it.”

I freeze, as she pushes me away. Without saying a word, she grabs my skirt and pulls it down, kneeling before me. As I step out of it, she lets her hands slide against my leg, up to the sensitive skin next to my wet pussy.

“What are you doing, Miss?”

She looks up.

“Be quiet.”

I nod, and tilt my head back as her long fingers sneak into my panties and touch my folds. I have to restrain myself not to push myself down on her hand: I have to make her feel she’s in control, so I whimper helplessly as she teases my pussy, softly brushing the hairs with her fingers, pulling back again. My entire body is in a state of ultimate arousal: I’m literally trembling with lust.

She stops, pulling her hand back and standing up again. I want to keep her down, tell her to continue, but I don’t. Already she is towering above me again, looking at me sternly.

“Take off your clothes.”

I nod again. I start to unbutton my blouse, as slowly as my lust will allow, and let if fall to the floor, rustling. I take off my shoes, one at a time, staring at her, trying to look as shy as I can. I reach for my left sock.

“Not the socks. Take off your bra.”

I hesitate. I need to do this right.

“But Miss…”

“Don’t debate. Take it off.”

I unfasten my bra strap and push my arms to the side of my breasts so the bra doesn’t fall off. She stares at me, patiently, as I let the bra slide off my breasts. The feeling of the soft fabric brushing against my rock hard nipples makes me shiver. I’m standing before her now, dressed only in my white socks and panties.

“The panties.”

I stick my thumbs into them, slightly pulling at the elastic band. I pull the panties down an inch on the left, showing off my hip. Slowly, I pull them over my buttocks, careful to conceal my pussy as long as I can. Finally, I pull them down all the way, stepping out of them and tossing them aside. Revelling in my nudity, I stand before her: the eager, innocent student in white socks before the experienced, strict teacher. For a moment we are both quiet: she looks at me, inspecting my nudity with a keen eye, and nods approvingly. She beckons me to step closer: I obey willingly.

Slowly, she lets her hands trail along my sides, lingering at the hips, sliding round towards my bottom. I feel her fingers digging into the firm flesh of my buttocks: moaning, I close my eyes and surrender myself to the feeling. She pulls me closer, kisses me: I open my mouth to give access to her tongue. We are melting into each other, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths, our hands touching and groping each other’s warm, soft bodies. I pull down her skirt, letting it fall to the ground. Immediately after that, I hook loose her bra. She pulls back to take it off, revealing her spectacular breasts. Her nipples are long and hard and beautifully red against the white of her skin. I gasp.

“Suck them.”

I nod, obediently. In truth, I desire nothing more than to suck her wonderful breasts, but I have to act reluctant. I bend down slightly, but hesitate, staring into her eyes. She smiles mischievously.

“Do you want me to tell your mother about this?”

Magic words. In one fluent motion, I suck her left nipple into my wide open mouth. I can hear her moan as I close my lips around it, brushing at it with my tongue.

“That’s it, Lucy. There’s a good girl.”

She strokes my hair, gently. As I suck her tit, my hands reach round for her panties. I pull them down slightly, enough to free her hips but not enough to separate the fabric from her pussy. Sticking one hand between her legs (but not yet inside her panties) I discover she is positively soaked: the thin fabric of her panties is completely drenched with her juices. I open my mouth again, letting my tongue rest on her ne. e. Little by little, I trail my tongue across her naked skin, deeper down: across the curve of her breast, down to her stomach, across her belly button, even deeper... stopping at the onset of her folds. I pull down her panties, for real this time, allowing her to step out of them quickly. I smell her arousal, bittersweet before me. Without hesitating, I pull her legs apart and press my lips against her soaking pussy. For a moment, she seems to lose her balance, obviously overwhelmed by the suddenness of my approach. Then she composes herself, and resumes caressing my hair, with long, soft strokes.

“You’re doing great, Lucy. Now stick your tongue inside me.”

I follow her instructions eagerly. Her pussy opens up for me beautifully as I twist my tongue between her folds, tasting her wonderful juices as they flow out over my lips and chin. I know she is close to cumming already: her moans and wetness tell me that, as well as the way she grinds herself against my face. She must have been as aroused as I was all through class. I decide to waste no time: I plunge my tongue in deeper and start fucking her, wild and fast. I hear her moans getting louder; I listen to her incoherent groaning. Mercilessly, I pump my tongue in and out of her, faster and faster, until her moans become one long scream of ecstasy.

She cums.

My face gets washed with her juices as her body spasms above me. I try to gather as much of her wonderful fluids as I can, lapping up greedily and pinning down her lower body with my hands.

She calms down. Calmly, I pull back, staring up at her as she breathes heavily, slowly coming back to reality. There I am, half lying on the floor, dressed in nothing but white socks, my face covered in juices, looking up at the teacher I have wanted for so long as she recovers from an orgasm I have just given her. I smile.

“Was I good, Miss?”

She looks down at me and returns my smile. Softly, she trails her fingers through my hair.

“You were excellent, Lucy. I’ll have to give you top marks for this.”

I lean against her, embracing her hips and resting my head against her lower body. As she continues to stroke my hair, I realize that the both of us have been playing a role, more or less doing what we expected from each other. I realize there’s so much I don’t know about her, so much she doesn’t know about me: in our act of intimacy, we were still strangers, nothing more than characters giving in to each other’s fantasies. I sigh: it doesn’t matter. We’ll have plenty of time to be ourselves.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I'm not sure if I should end the story here or not.
It seems like the perfect place, but at the same time
I feel it might be nice to have a look at how the
relationship develops, and cram in a bit more
girl-girl action in the process. ;)
Please tell me what you think: should there be
another chapter? Do you have any suggestions?
Please tell me!

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