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I was 6 weeks from a new job and I could almost taste the freedom. No more grading. No more announcements. No more bullshit emails from parents about their precious children.
I had been teaching dual credit World History to seniors at the same school for 5 years. They could get college and high school credit for taking my class and then passing the final exam. That meant I had to put up with the snowflakes, the ivy-league bound, and the over-involved parents. I was the last hurdle for the overachievers.
I loved history and I loved talking about history to kids who really cared. And who was I kidding, these weren’t kids. They were young adults. All of them were enrolled or accepted to major universities and since we were 6 weeks from graduation only a select few hadn’t turned 18.
So even though I was so close I couldn’t lay off. I had to push them to get past the final that took place a week and a half before the last day. We were so close. The anticipation was killing them (and me).
There were 15 minutes left in my final class on Thursday when she blew in. The door burst open and the dean of admissions hurriedly apologized and walked one of the most gorgeous brunette students I had ever seen into my classroom. The dean handed me a slip of paper and continued to apologize as she explained why they were so late for class and that this student would be finishing up my class and taking the exam with everyone else at the end of the year.
“Was she in advanced history at her last school?” I asked, wondering what was really going on and feeling almost sorry for this poor girl who had no chance of passing without a full course year.
“No, but she has tested very highly for our school and we believe she will do just fine. She has already gotten the required courses in history to graduate so she has chosen this as an elective more or less.”
I nodded and introduced myself, “I’m Mr…”
“Hammersmith. I know,” she said flushed. “I’m Sydney. I’ve heard so many great things about you. I’m really looking forward to finishing yo…the year off with you.” She stumbled over the end of the sentence and there were several snickers from the class behind her.
The dean was oblivious to the slip, apologized again, and exited reminding me that if I had any questions to email her.
I offered Sydney the only remaining desk in class that happened to be in front of my own and she sat down in a heap with her book bag and noisily began getting out a laptop to take notes on as I finished my lecture.
We had been discussing the Afghani rebel’s response to the Russian invasion of Afghanistan when we were interrupted so I concluded the lesson with one of my “clickbait” ending sentences about how in our next class we would be learning how the CIA trained the mujahideen to bomb buildings and escape into tunnels.
Students began to pack up and start chatting because there were about 10 minutes left until I would dismiss them to their final period of the day. I reminded them of their reading homework and a few dutifully got their books back out to read while the remainder chatted with their friends as they continued scrolling through their phones or tablets.
I walked back to my desk and turned to Sydney, “Did they give you your school issued email address? I want to forward you the lecture notes so you can catch up on this section.”
“Oh no, they didn’t. But I have a Gmail you can send it to. Let me write it down for you.”
Before I could protest that I didn’t really need a student’s personal email address she bent down sideways to get a piece of paper out of her backpack. The awkward angle she was sitting at made her legs skew just right. The denim skirt she had on parted and the red panties covering her were on complete display for almost a full second as she recovered. I tried not to stare but her eyes caught my gaze as I tried to recover and go back to focusing on my computer.
I thought I caught the hint of a smile as she jotted something on the paper. I tried to take her in through my peripheral vision as she wrote.
She was average height leaning towards petite with an almost strawberry tint to her brunette hair. Her ivory skin was covered in the most perfect array of freckles across her cheeks and nose and I could tell they ran down her arms and hoped they were on her chest. She didn’t have enormous breasts but she filled out the grey t-shirt she had on that bore the logo of a school in another state and I assumed this was a protest against her parents for moving her with six weeks left in her senior year. Her skirt was a proper length but even though she wasn’t tall her toned and freckled legs seemed to be held so I could see up higher than I was supposed to.
“Here you go. Please send me those notes and any other assignments I can catch up on. I would hate to be behind. My family is close with the van Owen family and so Emily and I are really close. She told me that I HAD to take this class pendik escort and get to know you” She seemed almost giddy to tell me why she chose this as an elective.
“Emily was in my class last year, she did really well. I enjoyed having her in class” I said, not lying about how well she had done. But I didn’t mention that Emily had also been back in town twice since moving to Kansas for college and I had enjoyed fucking her both times she had been home. Was this where the coy smiles and half looks were coming from?
90% of students passed the final test to get college credit and I had been voted a district teacher of the year twice and was a state teacher of the year finalist. I loved history and my class was a mixture of lecture and conversation that allowed students freedom to feel almost like a college class while they were still in their high school setting.
I had never married and mostly played video games and read outside of school so I had a lot of time to donate and was involved with many of the clubs and student government groups on campus. But even though I was a “cool” teacher I was mostly a hard ass. My class wasn’t easy and I did not pass anyone who didn’t deserve it. Parents and students alike came to fear unannounced, personal emails or text messages and I was not known for mercy. So what had Sydney heard that made her want to sign up for 6 grueling weeks of history when she was almost done? What had Emily told her?
She had to know.
I had started teaching as a rather large guy. But over the years I had learned to eat less and drink less. The combination of staying on my feet, drinking a ton of water, and the stress of teaching had done the rest. I had shed a lot of weight and then started lifting weights with the other history teacher who coached football. I packed on 35 pounds of muscle and had enjoyed bulking up ever since. I wasn’t thin by beauty standards but my weight was solid and not jiggly. Add in my full beard and engaging manner and I had had to make sure that I wasn’t alone with female students AND teachers for the last three years.
Nothing too inappropriate had ever happened on school grounds, but most students learned I had a life outside of school and figured out how to contact me through social media. I wasn’t shy about befriending kids after they graduated. I was still in the generation that had a facebook, plus I had a twitter, an Instagram, and a snapchat. I routinely added former students that had really become friends but sometimes awkward things slipped through. The principal and I had had to have a serious talk with two girls who sent me a video of them making out at a pool party two years prior and then there had been an incident with a junior boy that left his parents with a lot of new information about their son.
All of that to say, I didn’t know what Sydney had signed up for.
I checked my watch and announced to students they could go.
“Thank you for understanding and helping me catch up,” Sydney said as she got up. Her legs stayed apart so I could see her red panties again. She stood up and bent over awkwardly to put her laptop away. Her shirt pulled up and showed that it was a red thong she was wearing and that her ivory skin was perfectly smooth wherever I could see it. As she finished gathering her things the classroom had emptied and I was leaning on my podium awkwardly staring. She stood up and slung her back pack on her shoulder.
“Don’t forget to email me she said. That’s my personal one so it goes straight to my phone. I’m up late most days so anytime is good for me.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and met my gaze one more time as she walked out. I was glad it was my open period as I slumped into my chair to hide my growing erection.
That evening I was sitting at home in my sweats and t shirt debating on emailing a student. I was 29. She was 18 (I had immediately checked her records during my off period). But why had she given me her personal email? I know they give you a school email when you enroll. This must be some game.
I knew that I couldn’t email a student’s personal email address from my school one. So logged in to my personal account and sent her the notes and told her if she had questions to email me at my school address. It was 9:45.
At 9:52 I had a new friend request on Facebook. Then my Instagram received a request. She was working quickly.
I ignored both. I couldn’t have anyone else see that she had been added so quickly while still being in my class.
At 10:07 she emailed back to thank me for the notes.
At 10:15 my phone chirped again. It was a snapchat notification. I pulled up the added me page and saw sydney.freckles on the list.
I clicked on her name and added her to mine. My heart raced. What was I doing?
I had had sex with several former students and 6 colleagues during my time as a teacher but I had never flirted with current students.
My phone beeped as a message from maltepe escort sydney.freckles came through.
I clicked on it and she had included a picture of books and a notebook with the line “already studying to catch up.”
I sighed almost disappointed but somewhat relieved and went back to playing Battlefield on my PC.
The phone chirped again three minutes later. It was her. The picture was a selfie showing her smiling and holding up her textbook. I could see her shoulders. No shirt. No straps. Some cleavage.
I wrote back without sending a picture, “Good for you! Glad you are covering the material!”
She replied with a photo pointing at the floor but mostly her smooth legs, “you know it!”
She sent me another one an hour later but I had already logged off my pc, masturbated to a threesome video with two blonde secretaries scissor fucking each other, and had gone to sleep.
The next day seemed to go in slow motion. I checked her photo from last night but it was an actual question she had circled in the notes. I couldn’t wait for 7th period. Was she just a friendly student? Did she just have questions about homework? What would she wear? Was I imagining things?
I got to 7th hour that Friday and anxiously waited by the door. I seemed to get my answer as she walked around the corner. She had on another skirt, linen this time and just long enough to meet dress code. Her button-down blouse was opened more than any female teacher would have allowed so I know she opened at least two buttons coming up the stairs to my corner of the main building. She greeted me warmly at the door and I had to fight my eyes to meet her eye line as she got closer to me than necessary to show me the question she had from last night.
I stood behind my podium for 43 minutes to hide my erection and can’t remember a word of what I said. What I do remember is that with 7 minutes of class left after having given them an assignment to start for homework I sat at my desk and Sydney was sitting in the seat I had given her yesterday. There were no assigned seats in my class and several students were absent, she had chosen the seat closest to my desk on purpose.
Everyone got to work and I dutifully went into my teacher portal website to update next week’s plan when I noticed motion in my peripheral vision. No one was up or moving but Sydney’s legs were going back and forth. Almost imperceptible – no one around her would notice, but I noticed because I had been finely dialed in to her knees since she walked in. Students were working and visiting. The low hum of chatter had gotten a little louder as we got closer to the weekend. But Sydney sat, head down and working on her assignment with her knees barely moving. I tried to shift in my chair to look. I could see black and some white lace. But I didn’t dare let my eyes linger.
She noticed. She had been watching me. Her legs moved a little wider. Almost like a nervous leg bump students do when they are testing or focusing. She shifted in her seat so her pelvis was almost directly pointed at me. She was on the outside row so no one next to her was looking. I glanced over everyone and she caught my eyes. Her left knee moved wide and I couldn’t fight the instinct. I looked. Black silk panties with white lace. She saw my eyes. She stared directly at me and bit her lip. I was so hard my desk was almost levitating.
She opened her legs again and this time I stared. She put her left hand under the desk and pulled at her skirt. I did a quick eye sweep around the room but no one was up or even paying attention. Most students had packed up and were getting ready to be dismissed.
She took one finger and pulled at her panties. I could see a hint of a bush and the edge of her lips for just a second and then her legs closed.
I had to remind myself to breathe and then hastily dismissed everyone to a good weekend.
I stayed seated as she gathered her things and left without a word.
“Fuck.” I said out loud as the door closed behind her. What have I done?
No messages Friday night. Nothing Saturday morning. I did yard work at my house all day while anxiously checking my phone and then went to a birthday party for a friend Saturday evening.
I was resigned to the fact that something terrible was going to happen Monday when my phone finally chirped at 10:57, Saturday night.
It was sydney.freckles. I waited one full minute before I opened it. It was a selfie at the desk again. I could see more of her room and much more of her. No nudity, but it was clear that if she did have on a top it was very small. All it said was, “Hi!”
I asked her how she was and she sent another pic of her making a sad face and asking why I never sent pictures. I told her normally I didn’t add students before they had graduated and she sent back another devilish selfie with 5 words that made my heart skip, “I’ll make it worth it”.
I sent her one of my face and you could kartal escort tell I had on my tank top. She sent back a blushed smile and the water droplets emoji. Fuck. This was going quick.
The next picture she sent was in front of a mirror. She had on small lacy shorts and on one side the strap of her thong was pulled up so I could see it. Her bikini top was barely hanging on because she had undone the shoulder straps and she labeled the picture “not dress code appropriate – you?”
I sent one back in front of my bathroom mirror. I decided fuck it and took off my tank top so I was just wearing my black shorts – at least the dark would help mask the erection snaking down my left leg.
Her next photo was her face with a wide eyed expression – and then her follow up picture was without the bikini top or the lacy shorts, just her left arm attempting to cover her breasts while her blue thong teased the hint of her lips.
I responded with my face wide eyed and open mouthed.
15 grueling minutes passed and she replied with an all black photo, “I have to go to bed. Talk to you in the morning.”
I was crushed. I had almost exploded right then. I knew there was more coming but couldn’t believe she had stopped. I slammed a finger of scotch and figured it was probably for the best.
I woke up on Sunday and drank a shake before lifting weights in the garage. I finished and got in the shower at 9:45 when I heard a knock at the front door.
I hurriedly dried off and went to answer it in basketball shorts with the towel around my neck. My parents still lived in the town I was in so I hoped nothing had happened – typically they were busy on Sunday mornings so I would workout, read, finish any house projects, and then go eat lunch with them.
I opened the door without checking the peep hole and it was Sydney. She had on a simple t shirt and tight jeans. Her car was parked in my driveway and I glanced around outside to see if anyone else had noticed her standing there.
I stepped back to invite her in and awkwardly tried to turn my body so she wouldn’t immediately notice that my cock had begun to twitch. As she stepped in she brushed my crotch with her right hand.
I caught her by the arm as I slammed the front door. I turned the lock and quickly pulled her to me. I didn’t say anything but just continued staring at her as she pressed into me. I could feel her breasts and her small, athletic body quiver. She gasped, “Oh!” as she realized what she was feeling press against her stomach and thigh.
She pushed up on her tip toes and I kissed her. We didn’t speak. No words. Just lips and tongues. She tasted amazing. Almost like a fresh strawberry. She smelled of vanilla and my hands explored her back and her firm ass as she awkwardly jammed her tongue further into my mouth.
She pulled away and giggled, “I’ve never kissed with a full beard before – I like it.”
“Wait til it’s all over your body.” I said trying not to sound as desperate as I was to have more of her. She responded by grabbing my hand and pulling further into the house.
“I’d love a tour,” she said, “Can we start in your room?”
“You might not see much more of the house after that,” I said mentally cursing myself for sounding like a serial killer.
She turned and stared into both of my eyes as she said, “Why do you think I’m here? I don’t kiss all of my teachers at the door and get wet when I feel their cocks pressing against me.”
I almost came.
She ran back to my arms and I picked her up and kissed her as she wrapped her legs around my mid-section.
I pushed opened the door to my room and carried her to the bed. I dropped her and stepped back. I threw the towel into the hamper by the closet and drank her in as she laid on the bed.
I got on to my knees by the edge of the bed and my let my fingers find the button of her jeans. I undid them and started tugging from her feet. She did that move where she lifts her ass to help get them off and I saw that she had on a red thong like her first day in class. She lifted her head and looked me in the eyes after I got her jeans off, “I hoped you saw these the first day, Emily told me you loved red.”
She gasped as I pushed her legs apart, placed her calves on my shoulders, and started kissing up her thighs. I didn’t know her sexual experience but for a girl who sends semi-topless photos to her teacher and shows up at his house unannounced I assumed I wasn’t her first.
I kissed up her legs and pulled her hips closer to the edge of the bed. I laid my face right on her panties and breathed in deep as I started my tongue near her ass and traced her lips all the way up. She was soaking wet and the sweet, musty smell of her was driving me insane. I began licking her panties over and over, pushing my tongue in harder each time. She ran her fingers through my hair and said, “For the love of God move the fucking thong.”
I love when they have a dirty mouth; I immediately obliged and removed her panties. I had felt it through the thong but was pleased to see she had a small mound of brunette hair above her crotch. Nothing better than eating an all-natural girl. I kissed the mound and ran my tongue around it.
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