Disclaimer: All characters portrayed in this story are fictional and over the age of 18.
*****
I taught high school English at Meadowood High and I loved it. I got to play my guitar in class and talk about my old career in radio. You know, it made sense in the context of contemporary literature like Seven Guitars and White Noise. I was a cool English teacher and I noticed some of the girls would look at me with batting eyelashes. I imagined their pussies were getting wet for me some classes. Especially when I brought out the guitar and sang. The gruff voice singing old 70s songs was different to them, more sophisticated than the boys they had in their own age group.
I knew this and it was fun knowing I was making these hot young girls horny. I could see it in their eyes. A buddy of mine asked how I knew and what exactly it was that I saw that made me sure their pussies were nice and moist. First off, I told him there was a smell around that was hard to describe. It was ever so faint but it was a musky, damp, sweet smell that only one thing in the world smelled like. I was a pussy hound and when they were wet, I knew. The second indicator was their facial expressions. They would lose themselves in the moment- watching me and my guitar, strumming a lesson out in the midafternoon. They would be biting their lips and sometimes, some of them would place their hands between their legs.
One day, things got spicy. Sure, every year some girl would express her teacher-crush-feelings to me and I would give her the talk about how there are plenty of good guys her own age and how it was inappropriate for us to have anything beyond a teacher-student relationship. Yada yada, it was boring and honestly, so were they. I never would have pursued anyone that young because they hadn't lived enough to be interesting, quite frankly.
However, one day something different happened. That's when Mirjana came to after class. This was after 5th period so most of the kids had either gone home or had after-school activities. I was just grading my papers in my room. I was reading a particularly dry piece about the counter-culture movement in the 70s when she walked in.
She seemed to carry an air of confidence around her that was unlike anyone else in her age bracket. It was as if she carried a gust of wind to blow her hair into immaculate style. She demanded attention when she walked into a room. She was beautiful. At least I thought so. She was curvy, had long curly hair, almond light brown eyes and a adorable pink pout.
I had never noticed her too much besides for the fact that she wrote great papers. But I had never noticed her before.
Today, she would demand my attention in a way it had never been demanded.
"Mr. Nagiroht, why did I get a 86% on this paper? I spent hours on this researching, writing, editing, rewriting -"
I interrupted her. I hated when students tried to negotiate grades with me. Sure, I played the guitar in class to make things more interesting. Sure, I was the cool teacher or whatever that means in the eyes of many of the students, but once I graded a paper, that was it.
"Sorry Mirjana but I don't re-grade. I gave you the fair grade you deserved. If you want to talk about how to refine your writing skills—"
"Refine my writing skills?" she retorted back. "Are you serious? This is coming from a guy who comes in hung over to his classes?"
Shit. That happened only a few times. How did she even know—whatever, I wasn't about to let a student speak to me that way.
"Excuse me young lady, that is rude and disrespectful—not to mention inappropriate."
I felt smug after saying that. I wanted to lift my shoulders higher. Dumb bitch, trying to make me look bad. I just wanted to finish grading and go home! But no, I had to deal with Ms. Mirjana today.
Oh, would I have loved to have taken those thoughts back now...
"Mir. Nagiroht, I need you to reconsider my grade here."
"Why is that? I stand by my grade. It's an accurate evaluation of your writing skill and your reading comprehension and analysis. I'm sorry Mirjana, but there is nothing more I can do here. If you need extra tutoring or if you -"
I couldn't say another word.
I had just been kicked and kicked hard in the nuts. My student just had made intimate contact with my genitals in the least intimate ways. I crouched down grabbing my groin. Her soccer legs didn't help the pain either. I couldn't believe that had just happened. The pain was shooting up to my stomach. I was gasping for air.
"Shi—it! Mirja—na—Mir—"
She kicked me again. My nuts were on fire! I couldn't even think. I fell to the floor, my head twitching, eyes half closed from the pain and just beat. I felt defeated in that moment, only able to focus on the pain.
