Teaching was her passion. Since she was a child, she always wanted to be a teacher. East London of the 1990s was a tough place for a girl to grow up in, and to a young Isabel Díaz, her school always provided a break from the terrible reality outside. Her Mexican-British parents did all they could to help her studies and, through this and a determination to do the best, she graduated from secondary school with excellent grades. Moving away to study at university was both exciting and terrifying. She had never been away from home. Despite these anxieties, they turned out to be only that, anxieties. She settled into university without a problem and soon made very close friends. One of those friends was Matt who by the second year of university had become her boyfriend. They were perfect for each other, they had the same interests, they could talk to each other for days on end and they both loved each other.
They both graduated with flying colours. While Matt began work, Isabel took on a teaching course which within a year of study and a year of placement work would make her a fully qualified history teacher. She would be ready to teach the next generation of great historians.
And after all this, she was here. In the staff bathroom of a B-tier North London sixth form college. Staring herself in her deep brown eyes. Her hands propping her up on the sink as she considered the entire journey she went through to get here. To this place, her dream of teaching. She couldn't let this be ruined. And yet...
She splashed her face with water. "Get yourself together," she thought. She checked her watch. 5 minutes. Fuck. "You have got to do this. He'll be gone in a few months," she told herself. She looked at herself again. She sighed and retied her long brown hair into a ponytail with a small red tie. Today she wore a checkered blue shirt. Complimented with a sensibly long black skirt and nylon tights. If not for the school's uniform rules one could easily confuse the young teacher for a student. She was only 24, straight out of university. The kind of teacher boys fantasise about, and fantasise they did. Isabel knew this, but she told herself she would not be intimidated by perverted teenagers and would wear what she wanted. This, of course, meant she turned the head of most of her male students as she walked. She had learned to ignore it and walk on with pride. The only eyes, however, that she could not ignore... were his.
She began to stress again. She checked her watch. 2 minutes. She's got to go. She closed her eyes one last time and took a deep breath. Walking out of the bathroom into the bustling corridor was like entering a different world. A thousand conversations of students, teachers and other staff mixed into one great hubbub. She heard the whispers of boys as she passed, walking faster than normal. "Just, get to your class. Come on," she told herself. Pushing through the mass of students which slowly dispersed into their classes was mind-numbing and she began to stress even more. She pushed on, now breathing heavily. She made it to the door of her class. With shaking hands, she unlocked the door and stepped in, finally closing out the murmur outside. She sunk into her chair and took out her water bottle. Already exhausted. It was the 4th period, just before lunch. If she made it through this lesson, with... him... she would be clear for another week. After that, only a few more and he would have graduated. The bastard. Just as she thought these words and turned around on her chair to log onto the computer she heard the door handle. Finally, some students to take her mind off of this regrettable business. She put on her smile and was ready to again dedicate herself to teaching, him there or not, there were others she needed to worry about. But as she turned around she saw only one figure.
"Hiya miss," he spoke as he walked to his desk. Jack. The one who had been consuming her thoughts. The tall young man of 18. His main academic focus was his Physical Education, his history lesson happened to be sandwiched before the PE lesson he had 3rd period and the one he'll have after lunch for 5th. As such he was permitted to stay in his PE kit for the lesson, rather than having to change into the uniform. His navy and dark blue striped shorts reaching not even to his knee revealed his entire sculpted legs. His T-shirt of the same colour exposing his muscular yet toned forearms. His face, a handsome one, with a square jaw and deep blue eyes. His head of chestnut brown curls. Adonis. That forbidden beauty just casually walked through the door of her classroom. Each time, she couldn't help but analyse his perfect body. So disgusting for a teacher to look at her student like this. A man of 18, 6 years younger. How wrong. She made herself sick. But she could not let anybody know. Nobody can persecute someone for their thoughts. As long as they are only thoughts. She broke out of her fantasy as he was sitting down.
"Hiya Jack," she responded. She waited for some minutes, as usual, to allow the late-comers to arrive. She checked her watch. The lesson had started a minute ago. She glanced at the time on her computer screen, it was correct. She furrowed her brow. "Lesson's just started, where's everyone else?" she asked, confused.
"Yea there's some mocks on, like three different ones so I think everyone's there," he explained while unpacking his books.
"Oh," she responded, just remembering that indeed mock exams were taking place and many students would be out of lesson. She did not expect the entire class to be gone though. "And you? You don't have any?" she asked hoping he had simply forgotten his own exams and would need to leave. Slowly the horrible realisation that they would be alone for the hour, just her and him, reached her.
"Nope," he declared, placing his pen on his book and crossing his legs out in front of him. "Don't do any of those subjects," he smiled, "just the two us today miss," he added, opening his book. Her eyes instinctively ventured to his outstretched legs. Such perfect muscles. She looked away, back at her screen. She clenched her jaw, thinking of what to do. She wouldn't survive an hour with only him. She would go mad. "Got it", she thought. Most teachers just let students revise on their own when others were missing, she wouldn't have to talk to him or even look at him. No problem. Easy.
"Well, no point starting a lesson so just find some work for yourself for today then Jack and you can leave early for lunch too," she told him calmly. Inside though she was melting at the sight of his large, muscular veiny hands fiddling with his pen.
"Aight," he responded simply. Pulling out a different set of books from his bag. She turned to her computer, feeling much relieved and a little proud of herself that she had controlled the situation. She clicked over to her emails getting ready to do some boring busy work when it hit her. Slowly creeping its way up her nostrils. The smell. Her mind began to do cartwheels. Without the other students, the over-perfumed girls, the smell of crisps being eaten at the back of the room, the paper smell of 20 open books, there was nothing masking his scent. His manly musk. The deodorant he put on did an atrocious job of covering the smell of his sweat after an hour of intensive training. Her heart began to throb. Such a nasty thing to be turned on by. How could she. By a student? Her pussy began to moisten. So wrong.
She kept denying herself the pleasure of imagining him. Training, sweating. Flexing his muscles. Breathing heavily. He for sure had beautiful abs, by the looks not extreme ones, but just the kind she liked, smooth hard mounds. As she considered exactly what thoughts to force out, they entered her mind. She imagined him in the locker room. She imagined him changing, taking off his shorts and revealing his boxers filled with a delicious, thick, musky cock. She imagined him kissing her passionately in the staff bathrooms. She imagined how his great big hands would touch and fondle her all over. Her breasts. Her body. Her pussy. Her ass. She wanted to be touched all over by him. Feel his lips on her skin. She wanted him to be rough with her. She wanted to be his slut. She was now feeling hot and could feel the wet patches forming on her inner thighs around her pussy.
She shook out of it for a moment. She looked over to him. He was looking at her. She felt embarrassed all of a sudden. Had she given it away somehow? Did he know? The blue marbles that were his eyes penetrated her a million times over.
"You alright miss?" he asked putting his pen down. The face of a greek god staring her in the eyes, concerned with her. She could barely hold it together.
"Yes, um, I'm just, just a little hot I think," she stood up and walked to the windows mindlessly. She placed her hands on the ridiculously small handles at the bottom of the window frame and pulled up with all her force. It wouldn't budge. She groaned in frustration. She tried again, and again nothing.
"You might want to unlock it first," Jack commented. He was now standing right beside her. He reached over with his right hand to the top of the window where the small latch was and flicked it. His sweaty armpit now right in front of her face. She felt like fainting. Her head spinning. She could see the damp circle right there, its scent so close.
All of a sudden she felt his hands on hers as he pushed up the window. The fresh air hit her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. So much better. Thoughts floating away with the abnormally cold summer air. As she opened her eyes she saw his face. His sapphire eyes turned down toward her bust. He quickly looked up, realising she had noticed. He blushed. They both looked away awkwardly. They stood there for a few seconds in silence.
"I'm cold now," she said quietly.
"Should I close it?" Jack asked timidly still embarrassed by his wandering eyes.
"Yes please," she responded crossing her arms, still looking down. Jack placed his hands on the top frame of the window and pushed down. The cold air blowing from outside ceased with the familiar sound of the window sliding shut.
"Miss I'm so-" Jack began, turning his head uneasily.
"No, it's okay Jack," she responded calmly, looking up at him, for he was taller than her.
"No, I really shouldn't have, you know," he said, looking back down at her. They were now looking directly into each other's eyes.
"It happens, you know at your age, when your hormo-" she began, but was cut off.
"No, but, I get that, but it's more than that isn't it," he said, throwing her off guard. After a pause, he added, "with... us." She was once again taken aback.
"What do you mean, us" she questioned, almost snapping.
He paused for a second, weighing his words before he spoke. "With... with how you look at me," he said almost timidly looking away once more. Mortified, her mind became blank. She had no line of defence.
"I-" she tried, but nothing came out. Her face, one of total shock. She felt like collapsing. Maybe that would be good. She would collapse and it would all be fine, and they'd never go back to this. She would never teach his class again, she'd make something up. Never again. Her mind racing.
"You don't hide it very will miss," Jack spoke. He scratched the back of his head and looked back to her. "It's been like what, 7, 8 months now? You think I can't see?" he continued. His tone was kind, almost, understanding. She was terrified. "Every time I walk into the room you look like you've seen a ghost," he kept speaking, "and..." he paused again, "your eyes miss, they... I can see them wandering over me." She could not believe what he was saying. Was she that obvious? Did her lust completely muddle her judgement? If he saw it, did others too?
"Jack... I-" tears welled up in her eyes as she began to cry. In that instant, she didn't want to collapse. She wanted to die. She wanted to die and be taken to hell. What had she done. Her twisted mind had taken her here. Her career will be ruined. Of course, he was now an adult, but her student, for her to be like this - it was illegal. She let out soft sobs as her vision of the boy she would lust over faded to shards of light filling the tears which now obstructed her vision. Suddenly she felt something.
His hand was on her chin. His lips were on hers. Her tears run clear as she opened her eyes. She blinked. Was this really happening? Their tounges danced the tango in each other's mouths as his hand moved from her chin to the sides of her head. Holding her, protecting her. Their kisses became more passionate. Stopping only to grasp for air. Her hands reached behind his head as they made out. Soon it was over. They stood opposite each other again. Their eyes locking. His smell still in her nose, intoxicating. She inhaled deeply and ruggedly in anticipation.
He moved closer, towering over her. His strong hands ventured down her back and cupped her perfect round ass through her dress. They kissed again, more passionately than before. Her mind was blank. It mattered not where they were, and who they were. This moment felt so primal, so natural, that it could not be wrong. When their mouths parted, all of a sudden he lifted her and placed her on one of the desks. She weighed nothing to his strong arms. He reached down below her skirt and tucked his fingers behind her nylon tights. Slowly he rolled them down, maintaining eye contact the whole time. He then placed his hands on either of her legs and slid them up slowly causing her mind to go mad as his fingers caressed her light brown skin. He soon reached her panties. Once again tucking his fingers behind the band, he pulled them down her legs slowly. A trail of grool in the air between her damp pussy and equally wet panties. He smiled.
Once her panties were off, he held her foot in his hands and began to gently kiss it. Each kiss lower and lower. Toes. Sole. Each kiss a burning flame on her skin. Ankle. Heel. She could feel worries slip away. Calf. Knee. His head was now between her legs. He kissed her knee one more time. He looked her in the eyes as if awaiting a response. She nodded slightly. His eyes turned back onto his target as he kissed her inner thigh. Lower. Deeper. His head was now entirely covered by her skirt. She could not see him, but dear God could she feel him. Closer. Closer. The anticipation was agonising. Suddenly nothing. He stopped. But this abrupt sensation only lasted a moment before he plunged his lips into hers. His tongue twisting and turning, playing with her clit. Her head tilted back as she contained a moan. He slurped and he sucked. He pushed and he licked. Fucking her with his face. Her pussy had never been in such ecstasy before. She had never felt so light. Suddenly she felt something different as his large manly fingers made their way up to her pussy. Playing with it. She couldn't resist. Letting out a pathetic tiny moan.
"Shh," Jack cautioned her jokingly. He was now inserting his fingers into her pussy. Knuckle after knuckle she felt him inside her. He wiggled and turned his fingers as they slipped around in her soaking wet pussy. In combination with his tongue. It was more than she could bear. She felt it coming. Her orgasm. She was about to explode. Her body was on fire. Blood rushing to her head. Each piece of her becoming numb with pleasure. Her eyes rolling back, her mouth agape. Her hands clutching onto the edges of the desk. Her muscles contracting.
Footsteps. Jack stopped moving. She too pricked up her ears. Yes, definitely footsteps. Quickly he took her panties and stockings and hid them in his bag as she ran back to her desk, covering her bare pussy back below her skirt. Footsteps getting louder. A sip of water quick. They're outside the door, does she look fine? Oh, dear. Her eyes wandered to the table she had been on. A large puddle of her juices both on it and on the floor.
The door opens.
"Hello, Miss Díaz," the balding man of 50 spoke as he entered the room.
"Oh, hello," she answered trying to mask her irregular breathing pattern.
"Hi Mr Wilkins," Jack said, raising the same hand that moments ago was 3 knuckles deep inside Isabel's pussy. Mr Wilkins answered with a wave.
"Just came to get Jack, Miss Díaz, I hope you don't mind but eh we need to do some admin updates for the register, and since everyone else is in exams I thought now would be a good time if that's okay? It should take the rest of the lesson I'm afraid," Mr Wilkins asked, completely oblivious. "You should crack open a window by the way, terribly stuff in here."
"Yes, uh, of course, of course, if you need him, take him," she laughed nervously. She exchanged a look with Jack. A short glance, yet so many words were contained within it. So much more than words.
"Excellent, thanks a bunch," Mr Wilkins said as Jack collected his things and walked to the door which Mr Wilkins was holding open. He stopped in the doorway.
"Later miss," he cracked a cheeky smile and left followed by Mr Wilkins who closed the door leaving her alone. Her pussy was still leaking. Her orgasm denied. It felt fuzzy and lighter than air. All her muscles soft and numb, she slumped into her chair. What had she just done. She just let her student eat and play with her pussy. A sixth-former almost made his teacher cum. She just cheated on her boyfriend of 3 years with a student. The guilt, however, simply could not compensate for the immense feeling of desire she felt, having her orgasm denied so abruptly. She got up and left the room.
Walking quickly to her car she unlocked it and slipped inside. She spared no time in rubbing her pussy. Immediately waves of pleasure rolled through her body. As her fingers played with her still aroused pussy she could only imagine Jack with his head below her skirt again. She could only imagine what could have happened if they'd not been interrupted. She thought again of his body. Those dirty thoughts she had at the start of the lesson. She imagined undressing him and sucking his cock. She imagined how he would fuck her like the slut she is. How his strong arms would hold her in place while his big teen cock stretched her pussy. It didn't take long before her legs began to shake as her body convulsed. Her back arched as she threw her head back in immense pleasure. She let out a moan as her entire body felt light and each piece of her was in complete and utter ecstasy. She had never come so hard before. Not alone. Not by her boyfriend. Not by anyone. Only by her student.
As the feelings of pleasure passed and faded and she regained control of her body. She sat up again. Her mind fuzzy but now connecting the dots. She realised only now she didn't have her panties or tights on. Surely they hadn't left them. Did Jack take them? She couldn't remember. Only now was the weight of the situation dawning on her. The guilt that previously was masked by pleasure was growing. With it, the fear. The fear of losing her job, or worse, being in trouble with the law. She didn't remember the rules but she had heard of a teacher being put on the sex offenders register! And even if it was legal it was completely immoral. She would never be employed in education again. Her dreams. Her passions. Her boyfriend whom she loved dearly, who she planned to marry would surely abandon her. And he would be right! Why would you stay with such a dirty cheating slut. She began to cry again. Jack effectively held her in the palm of his hand now. He knew a secret which could destroy her life. He was the sole decider of her fate. The only arbiter. The Ceasar in the colosseum sparing or ending a gladiator. A beast over its prey, playing with it before it rips it to shreds. "He even has my panties. What other evidence is needed!?" she thought, clasping her heads in her still moist hands. She sobbed. She decided to drive home and call in sick for the last period. She couldn't teach in this desperate, and not to mention, pantieless, state.