Mitzi Seduces Mrs Robinson

*****

I think it must have been some kind of temporary insanity. What other way is there to explain where I found myself that day? Driving in my car, naked from the waist down, not knowing exactly what was going to happen when I reached the address that was written on the paper lying on the seat between my bare legs.

One thing I was sure about—the arousal was just leaking out of me and pooling on the cool leather seat. Then there was the fact that each time I stopped for a traffic light, I got this amazing tingling deep in my belly, wondering whether someone would pull up along side in a tall SUV and be able to look inside my compact car. Or what if I got stopped by a cop for a warning about a faulty brake light? I was not really sure whether the tingling came from dread or anticipation.

Here I was. Susan Robertson, respected school teacher. I'd been teaching English at Forsyth County Community College for almost 15 years—ever since I graduated from college. Teaching was what I'd always wanted to do. When I was six year old, I would line all my dolls up on my bed and read them stories. In one way or another, I'd been teaching ever since.

I love words, I love language, I love literature, and I love sharing my passion with my students. When I felt like I was really relating to a special student, the thumping in my chest felt almost like the building of a sexual orgasm. I am THAT passionate about reaching my students. And if I do say so myself, I'm pretty good at it. I'd been nominated as our county's teacher of the year twice and had the respect of my colleagues. I wondered what the people I have coffee with every day in the teachers' lounge would think if they could see me now?

I'm sure they would think that I'd gone crazy. That's what I thought, too.

And I really wondered what my husband would think! I'd been married to the same man—Dave—since one month after we graduated from college. We'd met our freshman year and were each other's first serious relationship. We'd been generally happy for the past 14 years. But my state of partial undress in a semipublic place made me think that perhaps I should have experimented just a bit more before settling down to a pretty vanilla sex life. Is there any chance that Dave may be just as bored with our sex life as I am? Oh well; no signs of it. He seems quite content with the status quo.

Just then a van pulled up beside me at a red light. "Shit!" I thought to myself, "The driver's looking over this way." I was certain he could see that I was only wearing a little crop top that exposed a good deal of my stomach. But that was not the worst of it. Today it exposed a good deal more since I didn't have another stitch on. Instinctively, I tried to pull the short top down a little bit, but it did absolutely no good, it was so small that I had actually pulled it down below my breasts. Now I was totally exposed but everything seemed to happening so quickly that I hadn't even realized it yet.

"Oh NO!" I thought, "He's looking over at me." His eyes were playing over my breasts. Of course, that always happens and I've always kind of liked it...a lot actually. I have a nice pair—36D—and the thin little red top clung to them nicely. I looked over at him and smiled weakly, thinking that might distract him a bit. I hoped he would focus on my dark brown eyes and my full mane of dark brown hair that everyone compliments me on.

The distraction seemed to be working for a skinny minute, but then his eyes slid lower. "Oh shit!" I thought. "There's the double-take. He's seen me." It was at that moment that I finally realized that my breasts were completely exposed.

His eyes locked on my pussy, then my breasts, my pussy, my breasts. And as they did, I began to leak even more. By then, the paper that contained the address was all wet with my juices.

Finally, the light turned green, and I mashed down on the gas. Mine wasn't a powerful sports car—it was a little compact that Dave and I could afford on two teachers' salaries (Dave teaches math at the same school). But I made a fast left at the end of the next block and Mr. Van Man flew past on the right, his head hanging out of the driver's window trying for one final peek. I had a moment now to at least pull the crop top back over my breasts even though my bad girl was telling me to just leave them visible.

All right, more about how I got myself into this situation. Almost every school year, there's one student who really gets to you. My rookie year as a teacher, there was Sean Anderson. This kid was always causing trouble, talking, telling jokes and generally testing my ability as a new teacher to control my class. But every time he'd push me right to the edge

and I was ready to march him down to the guidance office, Sean would flash this wonderful "who me?" smile and I'd just have to smile back at him.

He really knew how to manipulate me. And I enjoyed it. I hear he's a lawyer now. It figures.

Then a few years later, there was Jenny Scott, a pretty little girl who hardly ever opened her mouth in class. I knew there was a lot going on behind those blue eyes of hers and I wanted so badly to draw it out of her. About halfway through the year, I managed to develop a nice rapport with her, and she would stay behind after class and we'd talk. I learned she had a lot of trouble at home with her step-father, and I found her some help with that. She still sends me an email every now and then from university. She never had had any idea how many masturbatory orgasms she favored me with.

This year, there was another one of those kids. Her name is Mitzi Owens, and believe it or not, she's the reason I was driving my car in a state of full sexual arousal, trying with all my might to keep from reaching down and playing with myself again after almost cuming when Mr. Van Man saw me doing just that.

From the first day of school, I had a hard time taking my eyes off Mitzi. She was not the prettiest girl in the class but she was by far the sexiest. She was old enough, a freshman at the community college, but I had to check the school records to convince myself of that at the beginning of the year. She had this...this presence about her. Oh, she was pretty, all right, DAMN pretty, with shining brown curly hair cascading just below her shoulders. And these soulful dark brown doe eyes. They just seemed to lock onto me and draw me into her from that first day.

Mitzi is smaller than average size for girl her age, under five feet tall, so she had to look up at me when we stood together, since I am 5-8. But there were times when she would look at me and I felt like the smaller one. She has a really nice little figure for a girl her age. Her hips are filled out and rounded nicely, her waist narrowing sharply. Her little breasts were barely more than substantial buds at the start of the school year. But with just about a month of school left, she had really flowered and developed some very nice curves upstairs, as well. She had to be at least a 34D by this point. And on her small frame they appeared even much larger. And firm...OMG FIRM!

She is quite popular with the boys and even with the adult students. As a matter of fact, she developed quite a reputation for herself in a short time. Occasionally, I'd catch little snippets of conversations as I walked by the tight bunches of girls huddled together at the lunchroom tables and study halls.

"Did you hear what Mitzi did...?"

"Oh my god, she didn't do that!"

"Again? LOL! OMG, who with this time?"

"Or should I say 'How many this time'?...LOL!"

"She's such a slut..."

It made me want to grab one or two and shake them and tell them to quit gossiping, but Mitzi didn't seem to mind at all. She has this inner confidence that just lets her go on her way, seemingly not concerned at all about what her peers were saying about her. As a matter of fact, I am quite sure now that she may have started some of those rumors herself. If in fact they WERE rumors? But it did seem clear that she was quite advanced sexually. I guess that's why I started thinking about her like that. If she really was that "easy", then it seemed only fair that I should get my turn. My. My. Doesn't our mind get twisted when our body gets excited?

I know exactly when I started thinking of Mitzi "that way". One afternoon in October; she was sitting there on the front row, wearing this short little denim skirt that was riding way up. She was wearing a white tank top that allowed her thin bra straps to peek out from underneath, and a pair of blue flip flops.

The class was working on a written assignment and I was sitting at my desk grading papers. I happened to glance down at Mitzi's feet and noticed that her toes were painted a bright red. I remember thinking how cute and at the same time how whoreish they looked. My eyes sort of drifted uncontrollably upward along her young thick muscular legs until I caught a brief glimpse of her Carolina Blue panties peeking out from under her very short skirt.

It was not unusual for me to see something like that from my vantage point at the front of the room, and I'd learned to ignore it unless it was too blatant or happened too often. If it did, I'd ask the offending young lady to stay a minute after class so I could remind her of the virtues of modesty.

But this time, for some reason, I felt that familiar little fluttering in my stomach—the one that signals the early stages of sexual arousal. Unfortunately, I hadn't felt it much at home lately, since Dave was busy taking classes toward his master's degree in the evenings.

It was something I was not used to feeling while I was concentrating on teaching, and it made me uncomfortable. Nevertheless, my eyes lingered as I tried to see a bit more of what might be there between Mitzi's firm young thighs. I could feel my pulse quicken a little, and I knew I was beginning to lubricate. My mind began to wander back to some of the stories I'd heard about this young lady, who was supposedly giving blow jobs to older boys in the parking lot after classes. There was even one rumor involving a male teacher, but I refused to believe it. Apparently the rumors of Mitzi's promiscuity are nothing new.

Regardless, my mind drifted to thoughts of Mitzi's pretty young lips enveloping the straining cock of some horny young boy, pumping it up and down, grasping it tightly with her hand, and soon eliciting an explosion of semen, which she was not quite able to contain in her mouth. The vision of her with liquid pearls of the hot, sticky goo dripping from her chin actually made my pussy spasm just a little and my mouth water as I envisioned kissing her under those circumstances.

Just then a dropped book at the back of the class brought me back from my daydream. Or was it a fantasy? At any rate, when I looked up, Mitzi's piercing brown eyes were locked on mine. She obviously knew I had been staring at her, and she knew exactly where I was staring. There was such an approving look on her face. She knew that nobody in the class could see her face and she also knew that they could all see mine.

I know my face must have given me away because I could feel the heat of my embarrassment rise up from my neck

and envelop my face. Even my ears got hot. But, rather than share in my shame, Mitzi just smiled this enigmatic little smile and shifted her weight in her chair. If anything, her dress rode even higher than before and her thighs may have parted just a little further.

I was saved by the bell, so to speak, and everyone jumped up and headed home for the weekend. I just sat there at my desk in the empty classroom, my heart pounding, and with a noticeable dampness in my conservative school teacher panties. I thought to myself, "What the hell just happened?" At any rate, I decided not to counsel Mitzi about her attire. I was honestly wanting to see how far she would go since it was obviously intentional.

And I remember hoping that Dave would be home long enough that evening to fuck my brains out even though I knew that with his tiny dick that was a physical impossibility. Maybe he would then eat me to orgasm. He is pretty darn good at that. It was clear that I needed some sex. I would have to have some passion from someone and soon! In my mind it was beginning to matter less and less who.

From that day on, I couldn't keep my mind, or my eyes, off Mitzi. It was sort of like when someone tells you not to think about a pink elephant. After that, you can't think of anything else. It seemed no matter where I looked as I was standing in front of the class, my eyes always ended up on Mitzi. I knew exactly what she wore every day. How she fixed her hair. I noticed as her breasts began to rapidly develop. Most days, I knew what color panties she was wearing. There was one day, right after lunch that I swear she had a fair sized deposit of fresh cum in her beautiful hair. What had Mitzi been doing at lunch? I found myself searching the campus for her between classes.

And there were a lot of nights, when Dave was away at school, that I would luxuriate in a hot bath before bedtime, while letting my mind drift to thoughts of this girl who had nearly taken me over. I'd picture what she must look like without her clothes on. Imagine what she looked like having sex with those boys. Wondering whether she really got any enjoyment out of it. If she really was that much of a slut, she must surely be enjoying it.

My hands would drift over my full breasts as they floated weightlessly in the soapy water. My nipples would harden as I thought of how I'd love to caress her, touch her, make sure she knew how good sex could be when someone took their time with her and weren't just in it for themselves.

It wouldn't take long until one hand was between my legs while the other pinched first one nipple, then the other. I'd bring myself to orgasm night after night with the nude tight little muscled thick body of Mitzi Owens as the last image in my mind before I plunged over the cliff and came.

Lying in bed alone one night after one of those wonderful orgasms, I first began to think that something might really happen between Mitzi and me. Up to that point, I'd never even thought of myself as bisexual. My only sexual experience with another female came when I was about Mitzi's age or maybe a little younger. Naturally, it was at a sleepover. The four of us girls were "practice kissing."

But later that night, my best friend Karen turned over and put her face close to mine in the bed we were sharing and whispered, "Did you like it as much as I did when we were kissing?"

"Yeah," I responded, trying very hard not to disturb the two other girls on the floor in their sleeping bags.

"Do you wanna do it some more"? she asked, very matter-of-factly. "I can't sleep for thinking about it."

I swallowed hard and whispered, "I guess so..." My pussy was already soaked and I really wanted to scream "HELL YES!"

And with that, Karen leaned a little closer, closed her eyes and kissed me tentatively on the lips. I still remember the taste of her toothpaste and the wonderful smell of her light brown hair and the immediate gush between my thighs.

We kissed for quite a long time, very quietly so as not to wake the others, and it wasn't long before we managed to position our legs just right so we could grind our pussies on each other's thigh. We must have kissed and humped for an hour, all the while getting more and more aroused and less and less concerned about our sleeping friends.

Suddenly, I felt this strange tingling deep in my belly that developed into a throbbing that I couldn't control, even though it scared me so much that I tried to stop. But it was too late. I'd had my first orgasm while I held tight to my best friend and ground my little pussy against her leg.

Quite often during my masturbation sessions in the bath tub, I would start off remembering this sweet, sexy adventure with my friend Karen. But by the time I came, it would be Mitzi that I was kissing. Mitzi's leg that I clutched tightly to my throbbing cunt.

This, I believe, was the beginning of my temporary insanity. I only wish I knew when it would end. It still hasn't.

I can't even describe the guilt I was feeling at just the thought of having sex with one of my students. I'd read things in the newspaper and seen stories on television about teachers who get involved with their students. So I knew what I would be risking. Shame, humiliation, professional ostracism. At Mitzi's age it wasn't illegal, just stupid. Did I even want to know how stupid it really was? When you're on fire with the craving for someone, all these things seem somehow not so important. There is some rationalization process that makes you think you'll never get caught and that it is certainly worth the risk.

And so it was that I decided to act on my impulses, my urges. I remember it being almost an out-of-body experience as I developed my plan. I seemed to be looking at this other woman as she went about putting on a sexy yellow sundress that Saturday morning. I watched her as she first slipped on a pair of sexy yellow panties to match, then as she slipped them off again leaving herself naked underneath.

I watched as she painted her full red lips even redder with her favorite "fuck me" lipstick, and as she let her long dark hair fall loose on her tanned shoulders that were displayed so nicely, barely covered by the thin yellow straps.

I had looked Mitzi's address up in the admin office on Friday before I left school, and I knew about where the apartment she shared with her mother was located. Willow Trace Apartments in Clemmons. I also knew, from casual conversations with Mitzi during the year, that her mother was always out of town every other weekend at her in-law's beach house on the Outer Banks...and THIS was one of those weekends.

So I had a good idea she would be alone that Saturday, or at least without parental supervision. Who knew whether she would have some friends there at the apartment with her? I heard that she had hosted some pretty wild parties. I was counting on that being later in the evening than my visit. I fantasized a bit about what they would probably be doing if she did have company, but I hoped she would be alone. Her sister lived there too and might possibly be home, but that was another fantasy that I'm not discussing in this letter. Wink-Wink.

On the drive over there, my heart was pounding just about the way it did that night with my friend Karen, when I finally found out how good it felt when someone pushes just the right buttons...even if by accident. But today was going to be no accident; I had planned every step very carefully.

If it all worked out, my fantasies about Mitzi Owens would become real. I would no longer dream about taking her nipples between my lips and sucking them, making them swell with arousal. I would do it! I would make her cum. I would be the one to teach her how good it can feel when your whole body tenses with the delicious throbbing, tingling, pulsing feeling that courses through you when you climax with someone who really cares about YOUR pleasure more than their own.

It all made perfect sense to me. Very easy to justify. Dave didn't do anything to pleasure my body. I practically didn't exist to him. Mitzi obviously desired me and I felt almost obligated to show this young lady what true compassion could feel like when you are with someone who really cares. It was a win-win for all involved. That does make sense...right?

By the time I pulled into the parking lot outside Mitzi's apartment at Willow Trace...building C, my legs were shaking so hard I was afraid I couldn't walk the short distance to the front door that led to her townhouse apartment. But as it turned out, I didn't have to walk that far.

As I rounded the corner, I saw Mitzi sunning herself on a lawn chair that was sitting on a little patch of grass not far from the back door of her apartment at the very end of the building. The early afternoon sun was baking her firm, young body, which looked especially ripe and delicious in her really tiny black bikini. It was a Body Glove bikini with fabric that looked so thin and tight that it could have been spray paint. I marveled at how curvy her body had become--not yet a grown woman, but with the look of a total woman. I swear her face looked like a 12 year old. What an amazing dichotomy. I know my stares were way more than obvious. My gaze transfixed on her breasts, every bump of her areolas prominent and her nipples...OMG...you could have seen them from across the parking lot! Yes, I was consumed with insanity.