English class.

“… There are many different styles of poetry, and there is no single perfect method of writing. There are some poems that are very metaphorical and use lots of symbolism and vivid imagery in order to convey complex feelings.” Miss Kasumi droned on, writing on the whiteboard in front of the class. I wasn’t paying much attention to the lesson, I was more focused on my English teacher’s butt under her tight skirt. I could hear a familiar clicking of a pen to my right, a pen that belonged to my best friend, Amy.

“Other poets use a more simple method of getting their point across. Poets like Shel Silverstein don’t use as much imagery but they put much more emphasis on the wordplay and simple rhymes. This style of poetry can be useful for getting across really intense feelings if done correctly.” After writing what she wanted to on the board, Miss Kasumi turned around to face the class.

Suzumi Kasumi was my English teacher for this year, and she was gorgeous. At the start of the semester when she introduced herself she revealed that she was born in Japan but moved to the United States when she was still fairly young. She was perfectly bilingual, and didn’t even have a hint of an accent when speaking English. I would have been impressed by that if not for the fact that I always spent so much time paying a little too much attention to her in class.

She was tall and slender, perhaps five feet and seven inches, if I had to guess, and often wore heels to make her appear even taller. Even though she obviously wasn’t allowed to show much skin, I could tell she had amazing legs just from the contours of the tight skirts she liked to wear. Though she was practically flat-chested, she had an ass to die for. She had a great sense of style too, and she clearly liked the color red, often wearing makeup with red accents and a pair of red-rimmed reading glasses.

“In more modern times, a new style has emerged that is often called ‘freeform’. This style tends to focus on timing and rhythm, and some poets will even use negative space or sudden line-breaks to change the pacing of a poem, or add emphasis to a specific word or phrase.” She turned back to the board as she spoke. Though I had been trying to wait it out, it was no use. I felt my new cock stiffen in my panties. I began to smell the sweet and strange scent in the air again.

I peered around the room to see if anyone else noticed. A few people in the class were looking around the room, probably trying to identify the source of the scent, but most gave up and continued to focus on the lesson. The smell even seemed to distract Miss Kasumi, who seemed to be having a difficult time staying focused on what she was doing. I noticed that I no longer could hear the clicking pen beside me. This surprised me because it was kind of a nervous habit that Amy picked up in middle school. It was rare for her not to be clicking it unless she was writing something down.

But she wasn’t writing. Instead she was rubbing her thumb up and down the length of the pen idly. There was something erotic about the way she was doing it, and she was staring fairly intensely at it the whole time.

Miss Kasumi cleared her throat. “Well, I think that’s about all for the lecture. For today’s assignment I’d like you all to write your own poems. Have that keep you busy for the rest of class.” She then walked over and sat down at her desk. Her own black eyes were peering around the room, probably trying to find the source of the scent.

“Mmm.” I heard Amy hum beside me. When I looked over my eyes widened a bit. She currently had the butt-end of her pen between her lips and she was sucking on it gently.

Did I do that? I wondered to myself. I suddenly heard the pen click while it was still in her mouth. Did she just click the pen with her tongue? Why is that so hot to me? I found myself glad she was sucking on the butt-end and not the tip of the pen. That would have been quite the nasty taste.

My gaze wandered back to my teacher and my eyes widened yet again. She had undone the top couple of buttons on her blouse and her fingers were in her lips. It seemed like my pheromones were pretty potent. Looking around the room I could see a few of the other girls in the class were doing similar things. One was taking a drink from her water bottle but seemed to be savoring each swallow. One was sucking a little intensely on a lollipop. All of them were girls that I found attractive. Just like the orb said. Would it really be such a simple task to just get them to suck me off?

Suddenly Miss Kasumi stood up and began snaking through the aisles of desks, briefly looking at everyone’s work. A few of the girls nervously shifted their papers around, as if to hide what they had been working on the past few minutes from the teacher. My guess was some rather intense doodles.

It was clear at this point that nobody could determine the source of the scent, even though they tried. I would even hazard a guess that Miss Kasumi walking through the aisles was a thinly-veiled attempt at trying to find out. I decided to be a little more risky. I slipped my hardened cock through the leg of my panties, letting it rest against my thigh and lifted my skirt up just enough that the tip would be visible if you were looking down into my lap from above.

At last Miss Kasumi came to my desk and I watched as almost immediately her eyes widened when she saw my lap. I looked up at her and bit my lip. I could tell she was sweating. Suddenly she knelt down beside my desk.

“Miss Fenrose,” she whispered, “would you mind coming back into my office for a moment? I’d like to speak with you about something.”

I had a feeling I knew what she wanted to “talk” about.