I wanted to try a different perspective for this attempt. Plus this takes things much slower, and is about as realistic as I could make it, whilst staying in the "erotic" genre of course. My initial thought was to write this as a two-sided "he said, she said" type thing, but I got too engrossed in the one side of the story, and so never bothered with the other side. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this humble offering.
Teacher Jenny bumps into ex-student Michael in the street, twice, and decides to seduce him by dressing to impress.
Chapter 1 – A Chance Meeting
Michael was a geek. There was no getting round it. I had arrived at the school as a newly qualified teacher fresh out of university the same year he had arrived at the school as an eleven year-old boy. I had hardly noticed Michael for those first couple of years or so. All puppy-fat and pre-teen angst, he had been almost invisible compared to the older jocks and more outgoing students. Yet even then, there was a quiet calm and assurance that spoke of a subtle maturity beyond his years.
As he had passed through the school years, the puppy-fat had given way as he grew up, literally, before my eyes. When he left the school for the local sixth-form at age sixteen, he was well over six feet tall, and as lean as a rake. As far as I knew, he hadn't had a single girlfriend in all that time, although I could see he was extremely interested in girls. They just weren't interested in him – he was a geek as I said – and that wasn't what most teenage girls look for.
As the only female science teacher in the school, I drew some attention from the male members of staff, as well as many of the older boys. I have long hair, and long legs despite my short stature (I'm just 5-foot-4), which is usually more than enough to cause most men to start acting like idiots. However, I knew that too much attention from either male colleagues or from students, much as I might like it personally, wasn't good for my career in the long-term. So to try and discourage the more lascivious looks, I very quickly learned to hide myself under shapeless sweaters and trousers, along with flat shoes. I would tie back my long mousey-blonde hair into a tight bun, usually held in place with a simple wooden barrette, wear the barest minimum of makeup, and just some very simple stud-earrings. It seemed to work for the most-part although really it just wasn't me, or how I would have liked to dress. So to compensate, I would dress to please myself at weekends. The sweaters and slacks would give way to short skirts, sky-high heels, and wonderfully huge over-the-top earrings. Plus I would enjoy experimenting with my hair and makeup much more, trying different looks and styles just to ring the changes and to indulge my imagination and sense of fun. It almost became a double-life: the semi-illicit much more glamorous weekend-me, and the publicly frumpy school-me, and I enjoyed the contrast.
In those final couple of years before Michael left, I could see his admiring glances whenever he saw me, but he did his best to hide it. I was still one of the youngest female teachers in the school, and there were a fair few of the boys who had the usual schoolboy crushes from afar on several of the female staff, you come to expect it, and I actually quite enjoyed the attention. It was flattering to think that I could elicit the attentions of these burgeoning young men many years my junior. Of course fraternisation was completely forbidden, and to be honest, despite the shy, and sometimes not-so-shy, glances of lust that would come my way from many of the boys, I just wasn't interested. I had seen a series of boyfriends come and go in that time, and whilst I enjoyed the attention of the students, I considered them all far too young and immature.
All except Michael. As he grew, his maturity only increased, and I slowly found myself drawn to his quietly assured manner – especially in his last year or so at the school. And then he was gone. He finished his exams in his final year, and left for higher education. I hardly gave him another thought as the school year moved on and we prepared for a new intake of young students. He was just one more student, albeit one of the more appealing ones, who had passed through the system and moved on to continue his education in the local sixth-form college. Michael was certainly smart enough to go on to university, but that was out of my hands now.
* * *
A couple of years passed, and I had hardly given Michael a second thought in all that time. I had broken up with my last boyfriend several months previously, and was enjoying the freedom that I suddenly found myself having. As the school summer break started I had shrugged off the frumpy clothes of school-me and was making the most of the warm weather. So it came as something of a slight shock to the system when I bumped into Michael in the town centre whilst out shopping one day. He smiled warmly as he saw me, and I found myself smiling back.
"Hello Miss," he said walking towards me on the street, "I hardly recognised you at first."
I also hardly recognised him at first. He had really grown up in the past couple of years. Gone was the gangling schoolboy. He had filled out nicely and I could tell immediately that here was the body of a fit young
man
beneath the casual shirt and tight denim jeans. My stomach did a little involuntary somersault.
Then I blushed slightly as I realised that my short denim skirt that didn't even reach half-way down my thighs, four-inch high stiletto-heeled sandals, large hoop earrings, plus bold smoky eyeliner and mascara was all very different from the prim school-marm that I tried to portray to the staff and students. I attempted to cover up my discomfort with some banalities.
"Oh, hello Michael." I said "Yes, you're right, this is me in my 'civvies'." Then I quickly tried to change the subject, hoping to brush off the obvious difference in my appearance as a mere triviality. "Anyway, how are you doing these days? It must be two years since you left St Anne's?"
"Yes," he replied "just finished my A-levels and hoping my grades will be good enough to get me into my first choice of 'uni in the autumn."
As he spoke, I could see him trying not to keep staring at my eyes, or glancing down at my long legs exposed by the short skirt, and how my high-heels made my legs look. We chatted amiably for a few minutes about his university plans, but all the time I could see he was trying to hide his admiring looks. I suddenly felt both very flattered, and yet also very exposed and quite coy. He had matured since leaving school, there was a quiet assuredness that seemed to make him older and wiser than his years, and as we spoke I felt my initial slight embarrassment lifting. What did it matter if he now saw that I was an attractive woman? We weren't student and teacher any more, and I was allowed to dress how I liked. In fact, I found myself leaning in slightly and altering my posture to try and subtly show off my legs to him. I knew they were my best feature, and I normally liked showing them off whenever I had a chance.
It seemed to work, and he clearly got slightly uncomfortable as a noticeable bulge started to appear in his trousers. My work done, we exchanged a last few banal pleasantries before I made my excuses and headed off. As I walked away, I slyly glanced at his reflection in the shop windows. He was openly watching my bottom as I walked away. The high-heels gave my walk a distinct wiggle that I did my best to emphasise without being too obvious about it. I couldn't help but smile.
It was only later that I wondered at my own behaviour. What had I been thinking, flirting with the innocent lad like that? I was a tease. Yet I had enjoyed the attention, and it had been fun to think of his cock twitching in his trousers and him unable to do anything about it. Just remembering him looking at my legs, my body, gave me a little tingle inside that came as something of a surprise.
* * *
The following week I bumped into Michael again in the town centre as I was having some retail therapy. At first I thought it was coincidence, but I quickly realised that he might very well have been hanging around waiting for me. I was looking in the window of a shoe shop at a pair of beautiful black suede high-heeled strappy sandals, with full five-inch stiletto heels, ankle straps, and a small half-inch platform, when I heard a familiar "Hello Miss" from behind me.
"Hello again." I replied. "You'll have to start calling me by my real name if we're to keep meeting like this." I was shocked at my own brazenness, but was enjoying myself all the same. There was something happening here that I liked, and I didn't want it to end.
