I've never had much luck with women. It's not that I'm unattractive – my looks are average at worst. I stand at about 5'11, with blonde hair, green eyes and a slightly muscular build. It's just that since I was a freshman in high school, I've loved computers. My mother bought me an old computer from one of her work friends and from the minute I turned it on, I immersed myself in the world of computer electronics – programming, hardware, web design - anything that interested me. Needless to say, my social life took second place to computers in my hierarchy of importance. Throughout my high school career, I had only a couple of serious girlfriends. But by my senior year, I knew most of the ins and outs of the computer world. Ironically enough, it was this knowledge that led me to become involved with a woman who showed me things greater than any hunk of plastic and metal ever could.
***
"Is anyone in here good with computers?"
I looked up from the thick World History book, suddenly interested when Ms. Davis had said something about computers.
"Anybody?" she asked again.
I hesitated a little, but raised my hand timidly. She looked directly at me. "You are, Seth? I'm taking a web design class this semester and I have no idea what I'm doing. I mean, I've barely even touched a computer. Are you busy after school? Would you mind staying here and helping me study?"
How could I resist? Ms. Davis was a beautiful young woman, no more than 25 years old. Her soft young face was framed by a shock of lovely light brown hair; her almond-colored eyes were big and innocent. I had often found myself sizing up her body, my eyes moving voraciously up and down her petite figure. She often wore soft-colored sweaters that showed off her round, full breasts. She wore at least a C cup – quite large for a woman of her size; she was about 5'5 and probably weighed no more than 115 pounds. I had instantly taken a liking to her when I began taking her World History class. She was a calm, humorous person – unlikely traits for a teacher.
So when she asked me to help her study, I couldn't say no. She seemed like such a nice person, and was quite attractive as well – getting to know her better couldn't hurt.
That afternoon after the last bell rang, I went to her class and opened the door. She was sitting at one of the desks, looking down at a book. She looked up as I arrived and we exchanged hellos. As I sat down next to her, I half-expected her to suddenly kiss me and tell me she wanted to have sex right there on the desk; I suppose it had always been a little fantasy of mine to fuck a teacher. Of course, nothing of the sort happened. I helped her go over some notes and study for a quiz she'd be taking the next day. Although the meeting seemed to be strictly business, she seemed comfortable around me, which made me feel comfortable with her. It didn't feel awkward or uneasy as I had feared it would; she was such a nice person that I couldn't help but feel as if we were old friends.
After about an hour of studying, she thanked me for helping her and asked me if I could stop by the next day as well. "Sure," I said with a smile. She thanked me again and I left.
Things continued that way for the next few weeks. I went to her class almost every day to help her study after school. I became more and more comfortable around her; after a few days I felt as if she was just one of my school friends. I could joke around with her - something I could never do with another teacher. Her pleasant smile and infectious laugh had made me feel totally at ease with her. After a few weeks, I realized that I was beginning to like her, not just as a woman who I was attracted to, but as a person as well.
I quickly scolded myself for having those thoughts. She was much older than me, and a relationship between her and I would probably be not only awkward but unwelcome. However, I was 18; it's not as if it would be illegal… Still, I decided that it was just my overactive teenage hormones and that it was best to set my feelings aside. She needed help with a class – not a boyfriend.
But as the weeks wore on, I began to notice something strange about Ms. Davis' behavior. Several times, I was reading a question from a study guide to her when I'd look up and see her staring directly into my eyes. The look on her face didn't seem to be one of rapt attention, either; more like one of enamored daydreaming. I'd call her name and she'd snap out of whatever it was, then ask me to repeat the question.
There were a few instances where it was hot in the classroom – it was getting close to summer – and I took my school uniform shirt off. Most of the time I was wearing only a tight t-shirt underneath, and several times I caught her staring at my chest or arms. One time, I even looked up from a paper to see her eyes traveling slowly up my chest. She was licking her lips slightly. When her eyes reached mine, she cocked her head to the side a little, gave me a mischievous little grin, and asked me if I had been working out. I didn't know how to respond. I managed to croak out a reply, but I don't remember what it was.
Instead of the sweaters she had worn when I started tutoring her, she now wore tight sleeveless shirts. When it was cold in the classroom, her nipples were clearly visible, poking through the thin material of her shirt and bra. On several occasions, I arrived at her class after school to find that she had taken her shirt off and was wearing only a halter top with no bra underneath. She had also taken a liking to tight mini-skirts that hugged her ass and showed off her beautiful legs. She'd sit down in a desk, cross her dark legs, grin up at me, and tell me that we should get started. I could only sit down in a chair quickly, trying to hide my growing erection.
But most daring of all the things she did was drop a piece of paper - several times - and bend over to pick it up, giving me a clear view of her round, hot ass. There were a few times when she wore pants that were so tight, I could see her pussy lips through the material when she bent over. The sight drove me wild with desire. I wanted her so much, but still I kept my raging hormones in check. There were also a few instances when she'd ask me to pick up something from the other side of the room. As I stood up and retrieved the item, I could almost feel her almond eyes burning into my body. And when I returned with it, she was licking her lips and her legs were beginning to spread involuntarily. Many times I thought of stopping and demanding what was going on – just asking her if she liked me, and if not, what exactly she was trying to accomplish. But after careful thought, I decided it was best to let things run their course. I wouldn't have to wait much longer to find out what was going on.
***
Near the middle of the semester, Ms. Davis had a large comprehensive exam that she absolutely had to study for. I stayed later than usual, sometimes until 6 or 7 at night to help her. The night before the big test, I went over the material with her one last time. She seemed to be quite prepared. As I stood up to leave, she stood up as well. She stretched her arms out as if asking me to hug her. "Wish me luck," she said with a smile. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug. Her body felt warm against mine, so real and alive. "Good luck," I said, smiling. She told me thanks and I began to leave, but she stood on her tiptoes and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. My face flushed red and she giggled. "You'd better go," she said, looking down at her watch. "It's already 8."
I swallowed nervously. "Yeah, I should. I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said, and offered a weak smile. She smiled back and I left, my body still shaking.
***
The next day, as World History ended, Ms. Davis told me to stop by her class after school. She was going to get the results of her test back later that afternoon, and she wanted me to let me know how she had done. I said "Sure," and she gave me a strange little smile that seemed to say more than "Thank you."