Mrs. Beaver the guidance counselor

Mrs Beaver, the school guidance counselor meet me in the hallway, and with a very stern look, she waved me into her office. As she led me in, I couldn't help but glance down at her ass. I could see her panty line through her khaki skirt. My 18 year old mind managed to think something along the lines of "I'd hit that."

As far as high school staff went, Mrs Beaver wasn't bad looking. She was 40-ish with a few extra pounds, which mostly made for larger boobs and and a thick ass.

"I want you to consider this your safe place," she said, turning to face me just in time to catch me looking at her ass. I blushed and she smiled. "You can talk to me about anything that is bothering you while we are in this room, and it's completely confidential. Any problems or issues at all."

"I think I'm good," I mumbled. She placed a hand on my shoulder and as she did, her breast rubbed against my arm.

"You don't have to keep your guard up with me, I won't judge you," said Mrs Beaver. "Have a seat."

I sat down on the leather couch, and she sat down on the matching chair across from me. As she did, she was positioned just perfectly to give me a perfect view up her skirt to her upper thigh, just short of her underwear.

"You're sure there is nothing you need to talk about?"

"No...uh, really, I'm fine," I said. I was starting to sweat as I **** myself not to look at her legs.

"I've seen the email," she said.

"Oh...."

"Yes, all of the administration team and teachers were on one of the emails forwards," Mrs Beaver said. "Since you're 18 there are really no legal ramifications for Kristie for sending that photograph out, but trust me, she will be dealt with according to school policy. Using electronic means to embarrass a classmate is still bullying."

I didn't have anything to say.

"I just want to make sure you are okay," she said.

"I am...I will be fine," I said, still struggling not to look.

"I know it has to be embarrassing, knowing that everyone in the school, all the girls and even the female staff, have seen you jerking off," Mrs Beaver said. "You shouldn't be embarrassed. Masterbation is a natural thing. We all do it."

I swallowed hard and my blush deepened. Our school guidance counselor had just told me that she masturbates.

"And honestly, now that the women and girls in this school have seen the size of your...well...your penis, it won't be the only thing you have to beat off," she said. Mrs Beaver shifted slightly, and for just a second I could see her bright pink panties. "Whether she knows it or not, Kristie probably did you a favor."

"She did?"

"Oh yes," Mrs Beaver said. "I've spent the last two hours just staring at that picture, trying to decide how to address it with you. I think from now until the end of school, you will have an unprecedented amount of attention from the opposite sex."

She had spent "hours" staring at a picture of me blowing my load while sniffing panties? As embarrassed as I was, I could feel my cock stiffening.

"Is your panty fetish a new fetish?" Mrs Beaver asked.

"Panty fetish?"

"You know, this uncontrollable obsession you have to pleasure yourself while you smell a woman's dirty panties," she said turning again. This time she spread her legs and gave me a full on view straight up her skirt to her crotch. Her camel toe was clearly visible through the fabric, and there appeared to be a wet spot. "Have you been stealing Mommy's panties for years, or is this something new?"

"I-I...uh...had never done it before yesterday," I stuttered. I couldn't stop staring at her crotch and I had a full blown erection.

"Some people will try to make us feel ashamed about our fetishes," Mrs Beaver explained. "As long as it's nothing illegal and doesn't hurt anyone...unless they are a willing participant...we should embrace our fetishes. It's just our body and our subconscious telling us what turns us on. It's natural."

"Really?"

"A woman's vagina releases a little chemical called pheromones that naturally trigger sexual desire and lust in men," she said. "You like the feeling of that soft, feminine fabric against your face, knowing that all day long it's been rubbing against a woman's pussy and ass. You like breathing in all the pheromones that fabric has absorbed during the day, letting yourself be overwhelmed by her sex until you can no longer control yourself. Don't you?"

"Y-yes."

"I have a fetish to," Mrs Beaver said. "I like watching men who can't control their own lust. Nothing turns me on more than a man so overwhelmed from panty sniffing that he can't help but pleasure himself."

"Y-you d-d-do?"

"Oh yes, dear," she said. "Would you like to sniff my panties?"

"Here? At school?"

"What's the matter? We are in a private counseling session. The door is locked. Nobody can disturb us. Do you want to sniff my panties or not?"