[All participants are over 18]
Her clacking heels grew louder as she came down the corridor. Any moment now she would open the door to her small office and see me. I had a flimsy excuse for being here and none for what I was doing. My heart thumped in my constricted chest. I was excited and terrified in the same delicious moment. This was all I ever wanted. To give me courage, I took a deep breath, inhaling her smell, then faced the bookcase with my back to the door. I did not want to freak her. Well, not immediately.
"Oh! You gave me a start Perkins. What are you doing in here?"
"Sorry Miss Burns, I was just returning the book you lent me. Byron, the romantic poems."
"Yes, well, you should not come in here during break. This is my private office. "
"I know Miss. It smells of you."
That was the start of my problems. The day I walked past her open door and caught a waft of her perfume. I knocked and entered, but she was not there. Her chiffon scarf hung on the coat hook. I buried my face in it and inhaled the heady mixture of perfume and Miss Burns. Over the following weeks, it had grown into an addiction. I was obsessed with this woman. She could not be more than ten years older than me. She had to know how I felt about her. I would stammer through my answers to her questions. I could not look her in the eye, because then she would know for sure and I didn't want to embarrass her too.
"I said, why are you wearing my scarf Perkins?
I'd missed her question, lost in the memory of how it had come to this. One end of the scarf was wrapped around my neck. I breathed in her essence for what could be the last time.
"It's your smell Miss. I didn't mean to. It was an accident at first, honest. But I have to do this every day. It keeps me sane until I can get home and--"
"Can what Perkins?"
I turned to face her. This was the moment of truth. The thing I wanted and feared the most.
She looked at my face. I don't know what she saw in it. Love, lust, and perhaps insanity.
I held her gaze for the first time in weeks and found my voice. "Now I understand what they are saying. Byron and Keates and those romantic poets. I mean, they are a bunch of poofs chasing boys, but it is their passion that comes across in their writing. Isn't it Miss?"
She nodded and followed the scarf down. She must have had a premonition because she didn't scream, it was more of a surprised gasp. The other end of her scarf was wrapped around my cock, which I was gripping tightly. I'm a big lad, over six foot with everything pretty much to scale. As much of my cock was hanging out of the end of my fist as concealed by It. The purple head was trying to camouflage itself in the pink and mauve swirls of the scarfs pattern.
"You are in big trouble Perkins. Do you understand me?"
I'd expected her to shout and be angry, but her voice was softer, its sound constricted. I noticed the flush on her cheeks and the outline of her nipples beneath her white blouse. All the time her eyes never left my cock. It seemed to grow under her gaze and a tear of pre cum oozed from the eye and made a dark stain on her beige carpet.
"Oh god!" She'd come to her senses and turned towards the door that was still ajar.
"I know it's wrong Miss. I'll tell them it's all my fault and you are not to blame. Please don't leave because of this. I could not bear that."
She paused with the doorknob in her hand, going through the permutations of what would happen if she reported me. Miss Burns decided. She closed the door and locked it. She turned to face me.
"You silly boy Adam. Do you really think there could be no consequences for either of us from this?" She sounded disappointed, but sympathetic.
"But I'll tell the truth. They have to believe me."
"Adam, that is not enough. You are besotted with me. An inquiry would conclude you would say whatever I asked you to."
I opened my mouth to object, but she went on.
"Besides, an inquiry would be conducted by the board of governors, three of whom have already propositioned me, and that includes one woman. There would be a price for being found innocent."
It was my turn to be shocked. "What can we do Miss?"
"You need to control yourself Adam. Does that thing ever go down?"
"In the afternoons. When I get home and can have a--"
"How often do you do that?"
"Every day. Sometimes twice if we've had a lesson together that day."
She was embarrassed and annoyed. She stepped forward without thinking and prodded me in the chest with her index finger. "You need to find yourself a girlfriend, Adam Perkins."
It's hard to intimidate someone when you have to look up to them. Even in her heels she was six inches shorter than me. Her disobedient fringe was twisted, and I was so tempted to run my fingers through her lovely blond hair the way she did subconsciously when she sorted it out.
"I have a girlfriend Miss, Julie Booth. You taught her last year.
She thought for a moment. "I remember her. A petite blond girl with...." She realised.
"It's not the same Miss. It's not just a look. Sometimes Julie asks me what's wrong. How can I tell her it's because she's not you? She deserves someone who wants her for who she is."
I don't know where my tears came from, but when they cleared Miss Burns had a sympathetic hand on my arm.
"You need to get out of this mess Adam. You know what they say about forbidden fruit. If you have it often enough, it loses its allure."