The Teacher (more adult subject matter)

The man whistles airily as he walks out of the school and toward his car.  The alarm on his watch beeps once again, reminding him of the time and how many hours he has to find his companion for the evening.  The man curses knowing he should already have gone home and changed for the night by now. “Mr B.!  Hey Mr. B.!  Hold on a sec’!” The man turns to see Shelly running toward him, small breasts bouncing and heaving as she comes to a stop not three feet from him. “Sorry to bother you on your way home, but my dick of a so called boyfriend just ditched me for his buddies so I’m kind of stranded here…” The man followed her eyes as she looked down, leaving her statement hovering between them. “And, well, I was just wondering if maybe it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you to maybe drive me home…?” The man stands dumbfounded and ambivalent, looking over the girl before him.  She isn’t one of his brightest students, with a tendency to skip his class to go, and most likely, fuck her 17-year-old boyfriend, but she is one of his favourite students.  She brought forth good ideas in class, and always wore tight clothing that more often than not left her perfect midriff exposed.  She has her navel pierced and Mr. B. never failed to notice the fact that she changed it almost on a daily basis to coordinate with her outfits. “Mr. B.?”  The man started and looks into Shelly’s expectant gaze. “Sure shelly, where do you live?”  He replies and turns to unlock his car. “Thank you sooo much sir, you’re a real lifesaver.  I have dance in an hour and I know I’d never get there in time with out you.  You’re the greatest.” The car ride was excruciating.  The man’s hands tightened on the wheel, caressing its hard leather grooves.  Every few seconds his eyes were drawn back to the girls plunging neckline and small cleavage.  He marvelled at the way she crossed her legs, revealing more of her sleek, perfectly tanned thigh.  He imagined her to be as aroused as he was, each time she recrossed her legs it was for the small jolt of pleasure the action could induce.  Shelly talked the entire way to her apartment building.  She talked about why her boyfriend was such an ass for leaving her and she knows she can do a lot better.  She talked about jazz and how dancing was one of her favourite things in the world to do.  She talked without expecting a response, and for that the man was thankful. When he pulled in front of her building, Shelly leaned over and gave the man a hug and short peck on the cheek, barely grazing her lips over the newly forming stubble.  He mumbled some sort of terse goodbye and sped out of the parking lot unable to decide which burned more, his cheek or his balls.  By the time the man arrived home to his small apartment, his hands were shaking with excitement.  He flung himself on his bed and came within moments of freeing himself from the constraints of his pants and boxers.  He came but found himself still hard and in need with thoughts of Shelly.  The man decided to do some marking instead of going out.  Tonight he would spend alone with Shelly’s lips and thighs, round and misspelled cursive, and the scent of her ‘tommy’ perfume that still clung to his shirt.one option... Written February 13th, 2002 © on Feb 12 2002 05:38 PM PST   0 • 10