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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 1997. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
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Teacher's Pet
by Eli the Bearded (address defunct)
***
A female teacher helps her young female student get in
touch with her feelings by molesting her after class.
(Ff-teen, ped)
***
I told her to meet me that afternoon to discuss her
flagging grades. She had said, "Yes, ma'am." She has
such potential and I want to see her go far. She has
large doe eyes and a natural beauty far in excess of my
other students. I often wonder if her innocence is real
or feigned.
I am grading the endless papers when she raps three
times on the door. I turn in my chair to let her in.
She greets me quietly and stands in the door frame
awkwardly. I admire the way her simple dress -- a polka
dot shift -- suggests her figure without revealing it as
I pat a chair to invite her in.
My knee brushes against her leg, just above her high
socks, as she lowers herself into the chair. Her skin is
warm and soft I notice before she pulls away.
**
Years ago I remember meeting Mrs. Jacobs after class in
the empty school room. I was surprised to notice how
tranquil the room was in the early evening. She was the
first woman I had had as a teacher. Mrs. Jacobs showed
us all so much more concern than we were used to getting
and it made us all love her.
As the sun sank low through the bare limbs of the trees
outside, Mrs. Jacobs and I talked. I wanted to become a
teacher seeing her example and I was asking her advice.
The lights were off for some reason that first day for
some reason neither of us turned them on as the reddish
light grew scarcer. Instead we moved our chairs so we
would not block the light and moved ourselves closer to
each other.
The sun was setting with rich fiery hues when our hands
met and held each other. I still don't remember who made
the first move. I do remember the oddly fruity taste of
her mouth that first day.
For the next several years, until I left for the
teachers college in fact, I would meet her after school.
Sometimes it was several times a week, other times we
could go a month apart.
I remember finding her to have a rare beauty. Her body,
while past its prime, was nonetheless wonderful. It had
grown old the way a pair of slippers does, more
comfortable with each passing year. Her small and supple
breasts modelled to shape of my mouth; the skin of her
legs playfully loose; belly full and soft to lean one's
head upon; the gray hair created a stunningly elegant
appearance.
**
In college I met Jasmine. At first I remember
considering her large breasts ungainly, her strange
flexibility uncouth, and her mannerisms immature. Over
time these thoughts of her changed. Her chest became
sexy, the contortionist skills became enticing, and her
childishness refreshing.
Her insatiable curiosity and boundless energy led to
much of my own sexual experimentation. My first -- and
last -- experience with a man was in her company. The
equipment was interesting but the performance failed to
impress. I sometimes think back and feel disgust, other
times pity.
Jasmine also lead me through my first masturbating to
orgasm. Many a time have I thanked her in my mind for
having the disregard of taboo to lead me past my
inhibitions on that matter. It is certainly enough to
make me forgive her leaving to marry that guy Oswin.
**
Jane looks nervously uncomfortable seated in front of
me. "You wanted to talk to me, Ms. Ossi?"
The tremble in her voice throws waves of energy through
me. "Please call me Jill." I put down the red pen and
shift in my seat to offer her a better view of my
breasts. "Yes, I wanted to let you know that I would
like to help you do better. I remember how helpful it
was for me to have a friend in the faculty when I was a
student, and I thought I could offer you similar
assistance."
I am not sure but I think I may have over emphasized
"assistance."
Her hands were in her lap on top of her notebook, but
now she lifts the binder up against her chest. With some
trepidation she asks "How?"
I put my hand on her knee and rub my finger in circles
to feel the soft skin. "Oh, you know a friend can always
offer extra help, arrange favors, assuage doubt in
ambiguous situations."
She stares mutely at me. I feel her body's tenseness. I
roll my chair closer. I hold her knee firmly to show my
support in her obvious emotional turmoil. With my other
hand I pull her book aside and put it on my desk. "Do
you want my help?" I touch her neck gently and she pulls
away slightly but wordlessly.
I move closer to her and my sense of smell, always poor,
finally notices her perfume. I put my hand on her
shoulder. She starts to say something as I press my lips
to her mouth. She tastes sweet like gum, probably from
gum. None of the students are allowed to chew it but
they all do. Her mouth feels so small as maneuver it.
With one I arm reach further around her and pull her
close, the other I slide up her leg to the hem of her
dress. She puts her hands on my chest, pushing slightly.
Abruptly I stop everything to pull her onto my lap. My
nipples are hard beneath her palms, I am wet beneath her
weight. I hold her tight to my chest and peck kisses
around her face. I cup one of her breasts and gently
play. She has by now pushed my blouse further open and
has her hand pressed to my burning skin.
While I move my kisses further down her cheek and neck,
my playing drifts to her tense abdomen. I hear her
whisper something, but all I make out is "Oh." I don't
know how long she has been doing it, but I suddenly
notice that her nails are cutting into skin. I feel
ripples of energy from between my legs, but I give
myself no relief.
Instead I move my hand to Jane's crotch. I rub her hard
through the polka dots to keep my hand from reaching
back to my own needs. I bite and suck her breasts
through the soft cloth. I reach under her dress, pushing
her legs apart, to get a better position to handle her
needs.
I push apart her panties and a finger enters her warmth,
her wetness. I rub and push and squeeze and force the
flesh as I know feels best. I push my mouth back to hers
and feel her energy. I sense her plateau approaching in
her mouth. I slow slightly to prolong the sensation.
When she does orgasm she nearly bites my tongue but her
teeth catch on mine. I pull my mouth away and go to suck
on her ear. A few more strokes for her and my hand comes
out to go for my own box. I am in too much haste worry
about my skirt, pushing the material instead into my
crotch.
I am quite on edge and even these blunted strokes have
me quivering. It takes hardly a few moments before my
orgasm hits me. I relax my hold of Jane and she slides
back slightly. I continue rubbing to nurse my joy.
I open my eyes and see Jane has crossed her arms with
her hands tightly gripping her shoulders. I notice her
eyes are wet as if she were crying. I make one last slow
pass with my hand over myself.
I reach for a tissue to dry her eyes. "The overflow of
feelings can be something the first time, can't it?"
She makes a quiet noise like a sob.
"Now, now don't worry, my dear," I offer as reassurance.
"I want to help you. I think you will do very well this
year." I put my hand on hers, covering the white
knuckles. I squeeze gently, "You have nothing to worry
about."
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real
life" can look forward to many unproductive years
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 69