I guess not

Monday.

Not a day I usually look forward to, but then again I didn’t usually have such a cute piece of ass of a teacher to look at and fantasize about. I jerked off both Saturday and Sunday thinking about Miss Laura, and what happened in class Friday, the fading memories still wandering around in my mind. It was so fucking hot. I wanted more. The danger of it, the risk, the possible repercussions making it all the more exciting.

I also spent some time on social media over the weekend, checking out my new favorite teacher. I found out she was very much a Christian, and very much engaged. Her fiancé was some scrawny dude whose pictures gave off the vibe of someone who couldn’t please a woman if his life depended on it. Pathetic. Not manly at all. Soy boy. They made a cute couple, though.

Fuck. I wondered if she’d even show up for class.

I hoped so. Cause if she did…well, let’s just call that a green light. And green always means go.

I mean, if she told someone, it was probably game over. Suspension, expulsion, legal action…you name it. But if she didn’t…oh man, the thoughts made my mind race. I bet she didn’t tell a god damned soul. I knew a hundred girls like her. Guys too. People who wouldn't say anything and just hope that it wouldn’t happen again, even though if it did, they’d just let it happen and repeat the cycle, not once standing up for themselves or fighting back. Spineless. Weak-willed. Ripe for the taking. And people like me and them are drawn to each other, for whatever reason. Givers and takers. Dominant and submissive. There is no equality in this world, just the facade of equality. But it worked, and it made the world go ‘round. Like pornography, it wasn’t good or bad, it just…was.

And that was alright with me.

When I walked through the doorway, I smirked, silently looking down and shaking my head. Miss Laura was at the board writing something. Fuck yes.

“Looking good, Miss Laura,” I warmly said with knowing eyes. She was dressed as cute as last Friday, and wore that same perfume. She had on jeans this time, opting out of the skirt today, and they fit her cute ass so nicely, while last week’s shirt and coat were replaced by an oversized sweater with long sleeves that came down to her fingertips. Very nice. She quickly glanced at me as I walked by, but pretended to ignore my compliment, looking back down as if she hadn’t seen me. I smirked again. Fine. Play it however you wanna play it.

Once in my seat I watched her finish up writing whatever the fuck she was writing on the board, my eyes too focused on her tight ass to notice much else.

That ass. The memory of what it felt like in my hand had since faded, but my mind was pleasantly filling in the blanks. God damn. I wanted to know what it tasted like.

Class went on and after a while I got the sense that she was actively avoiding my gaze. She pretty much ignored this side of the classroom. That was fine. I was a patient guy. Timing was everything, and there was a time for everything.

I’d finally had enough of her little game and blurted out an answer to a question that wasn’t posed to me. I thought my answer was correct, but Miss Laura’s demeanor changed when she corrected me in front of the class.

“Maybe you need to spend more time studying,” she quipped nervously, stammering a bit as she said it, obviously pleased with herself, somewhat confident with me now that a full class of witnesses sat between us. But I knew better. In one day I already knew her better. How she’d fold like a cheap card table if I put the slightest amount of pressure on her. And she wouldn’t say shit. My ego took a little hit, but I just nodded and smirked, appreciating the playful remark, however lame and weak an attempt at balancing the scales it may have been.

“Maybe you can tutor me,” I responded in a smart ass tone with a big grin on my face. I was better at this than she was. “Privately, of course.” She wasn’t prepared for my comment and went slightly pink. The hoots and hollers from some of the class weren’t doing her any favors, either.

“Thats enough,” she told the class, in a voice quieter and with less authority than she’d probably intended. She waited for the chuckles and murmurs to die down before continuing, avoiding me for the rest of class.

My dick was heavy as I watched her try to teach the rest of the class, tuning her lesson out, and instead thinking about what I wanted to do to her. It clouded my thoughts so much that before I knew it, the bell rang .

“Miss Laura,” I blurted out, not wanting this opportunity to go to waste. “Can I talk to you about something?” I said it loud enough for all to hear, with a couple of students looking back at her to see what her response would be. She was flustered as she had already started to pack up her laptop and grab her purse, but the weight of the eyes upon her was too much, and whatever resolve she felt a moment before about leaving quickly evaporated.

“Um,” she murmured, obviously disappointed in herself. “Yes, that’s…I guess that’s fine.” She let out a deflating breath, shoulders slumping as she Set her purse back down onto her desk. I smiled, anxious to be close to her again. The classroom door closed gently with a loud click as it latched, and the noise seemed to echo, signifying the end of whatever confidence she had during class. She leaned back against her desk, arms crossed, as if protecting herself. She didn’t look up.

“Why don’t you come over here?” I offered. She was too far away. Several seconds passed as she built up the nerve to say something, and when she finally did, I was not impressed.

“I think I’m fine over here,” she said quietly, still not looking up. I shook my head, amused. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

“You’re right about that “ I remarked. “You are fine.” She didn’t take it as the compliment I’d intended, her arms tightening as if keeping her safe. “Come over here. And please don’t make me ask again.” Yet there she stayed.

“Have it your way,” I said, and stood up. Only then did she look at me, her eyes quickly glancing at the door, then casting down to the floor when her chance to leave passed. I could smell her perfume as I approached her desk. She stood up as straight as her nervous body would allow, her knuckles white as they gripped her arms, covering her chest. I smirked down at her.

“What do you want from me?” She whispered, almost pleading, knowing adding any volume to her already shaky voice would humiliate her further. My eyes drifted down her body. Tight jeans, so nice. I’d love to just fucking peel them off. My dick was heavy inside my boxers, bulging against the front of my jeans.

“You never answered my question,” I said, amused, reaching out and touching the side of her face. She turned her head away, closing her eyes in mortified disgust. I let my hand drop to her waist instead, sliding it up just under her sweater to rest on her left hip. Her hands shot down to pull her sweater down and push my hand away. Taking advantage of her guard being down, I quickly grabbed both of her hips and spun her around, pushing her forward so she was **** to bend down across her desk. Her hands shot out and caught her, slapping her desk loudly as she held herself up.

She gasped, helpless against my crotch that now pressed against her ass. She tried to struggle but said nothing. Not a fucking thing. My hands were on her ass as I looked down at it, just beckoning me to release it from the confines of those tight fucking jeans. I lewdly caressed her ass while she squirmed in front of me. Silently accepting what I was doing. I pressed my crotch into her firmly.

“Want me to stop?” I asked gently, smiling down at the back of her head, her blonde hair still perfectly in place. I slid my hand up her back and firmly gripped a handful hair on the back of her head, gently pulling. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she whimpered, almost in a whisper.

I let up on the pressure of my crotch against her ass, taking a moment to look down at her cute little backside again. I pulled her hair gently and she stood up. The hand that was on her ass slid around to the front of her jeans, quickly finding her crotch, and I nestled my fingers in the warmth between her legs. Her hands shot to mine and tried feebly to remove it.

“Why don’t you give me a kiss?” I offered playfully. “…and then I’ll leave you alone.” Her hands still struggled against mine as my fingers pressed into her. I made small, slow circles against her crotch, her pussy’s **** warmth soothing my fingers.

Then I let her go, and she spun around awkwardly, fear and disgust and unintended, shameful arousal in her wet eyes as she tried to collect herself.

“One kiss,” I offered again, my hands held out as if calling a truce. “Our little secret.” She wiped her eyes frantically, the goosebumps on her skin obvious. She swallowed, her eyes locked onto mine. “Come on,” I urged, bringing my hand to my nose to breath her in. “Just one little kiss.”

She quickly looked at the door and back to me, as if her eyes were trying to find some route of escape. But I was still too close, my bulging crotch inches from her, the heat from her body palpable. She panted quickly, her face flushed pink from humiliation.

I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. The resignation. Weighing her options. She was about to give up. To give in. She swallowed again and made a small, pitiful noise. Oh come on, I’m not that bad. More attractive than her fiancé, that’s for sure. What’s one, little kiss?

She leaned forward and tried to plant a small kiss on my cheek but I quickly pulled away. She stared up at me, confused and frustrated. Probably wondering what Jesus would do in a situation like this.

“No,” I said, amused at her naivety and intoxicated by her cute face. “Not there.”

Smirking down at her, I unbuckled my belt.