With high school graduation only 2 weeks away, my mind was focused solely on making it through the day as quickly as possible. I was ready to leave this stuffy building and my drab uniform behind. The short, red, black, and plaid skirt seemed to get even more boring the more I wore it and my short-sleeved, button-up white shirt had a hard time holding in the chest that decided to finally show up this year. It seemed like the fabric got tighter each day. Until recently, I wore tank tops under my shirt and sweaters over, but this year I grew out of my shell and decided it was time for the guys in my school to take notice.
Before my senior year, I was ashamed of my tiny frame and long legs. I felt lanky walking the halls. Even at a young age, I stood taller than most of my classmates. When my growth spurt hit my junior year, I grew even taller, peaking at 5'8". At first, my added height threw me into a panic. The last thing I wanted were more eyes on me. But as I started watching myself in the mirror, height wasn't the only thing that decided to show itself. By the time the summer hit, my body had transformed from an awkward girly figure to that of a lean and curvy woman. Even my green eyes seemed to be a little brighter and my long, dusty blonde hair seemed to be shinier. The only thing I felt my figure lacked was a nice chest. My barely B-cups seemed almost undeveloped compared to my new body and I feared they would stay small.
I made myself the vow that my senior year would be one that not only I would remember, but I wanted my classmates to remember me too. It started subtle at first, I started leaving the sweaters behind and putting on a bit of make-up, but it started growing into rolling my skirt higher, buying strappy heels to lift my ass, leaving more buttons of my shirt undone, and making sure my sexy bras were visible through the white of my uniform shirt. Near the end of the year I noticed my barely B's had grown into full C's. It seemed as they grew, so did the lump in the pants of my fellow male classmates and even in some of the male teachers. I knew my goal of being remembered was working.
Two weeks before graduation, a mere week after my 18th birthday, I started feeling bored with my usual display. I had gotten a few dates but none of the boys in my grade seemed mature enough sexually for my taste. Just as I was starting to lose hope, I walked into 5th hour English only to be greeted by a tall man in black slacks, blue dress shirt and a navy tie. He had dark wavy hair and eyes that matched his shirt. He couldn't have been over 25 but had muscles that placed him out of the high school age category. I took my seat in the front row, the seat that I was fairly sure my middle aged English teacher had given me so he could look directly down my shirt while standing or up my skirt while at his desk.
"Hello class. I'm Mr. Jacobs. I'll be taking over Mr. Tucker's classes for the rest of the year while he sorts out some personal issues," he leaned himself against his desk as he explained further, "I know most of you are fairly prepared for the final exam he's been warning you about, but I figured a little more review couldn't hurt."
The next hour passed with a few failed attempts at me getting Mr. Jacobs' attention by licking my lips or twirling my hair. I even attempted to play with the deep v created by my partially unbuttoned shirt, hoping to draw his eyes to my ample cleavage, but nothing seemed to take him away from his task at hand. When the bell signaled the end of class, he told us all to have a nice day and took a seat in his desk. I bent deeply over to grab my books from the floor, making sure to face my ass his direction. I knew he wouldn't miss the show as long as his head wasn't down. When I stood back up and glanced his way, a small smile crossed his face as he seemed to adjust himself under his desk. I met his eyes with mine as a devilish grin found my face then turned and left the classroom.
Sixth hour seemed to fly by as my mind wondered to racy images of Mr. Jacobs and myself. I imagined him bending me over his desk or pressing me up against the dry erase board. By the time the bell rang, I was greatly considering skipping 7th hour to head home and alleviate myself of the aching I had between my thighs. My conscious, however, screamed louder than my dripping pussy and I decided to head to my Science class.
My books were set out in front of me and the bell had already rung as another Mr. Jacobs entered the room. This one was dressed in a grey shirt, black slacks, red tie and his hair was lighter and shorter. He placed his briefcase down and turned toward the class.
"Hello everyone. My name is Mr. Jacobs, but you guys can call me Mr. J. I'm sure some of you have already had my brother in Mr. Tucker's class so I figure Mr. J will be less confusing. I'll be stepping in to finish the year for Ms. Yoder while she takes care of some personal issues."
"And by personal issues he means Mr. Tucker," my friend Gina whispered in my ear.
