Chapter 02
His teacher is humiliated
Miss Andrews felt him stirring from a deep sleep and gently eased his head from her breast onto the pillow. It was her turn to be looking at him when he opened his hazel eyes. There was a mix of disquiet and pleasant satisfaction on her face.
"I'm hungry," Denis announced. With a wicked grin on his face he pulled her close and sucked on her soft breast devouring it like a ravenous beast. She pushed with her legs trying to break free but he was ready and wrapped an arm round her calf pulling it up opening her legs.
"Stop it," she whimpered on feeling finger tips probing her lips. "Damn you, let me go," she complained. It was exciting fighting off an ardent young lover but he was her student. It was wrong so she couldn't let him take advantage again. It had been understandable the first time under these extraordinary circumstances but it must stop right now.
"Ask me to stop properly, naughty teacher," he laughed.
Locked in a vice like grip she would have to play by his rules. To avoid being seduced into a state of submission she was going to have to plead for mercy and quickly. "Please, sir, let me go," she whimpered, just as he found her bud. She would capitulate to those teasing fingers if she didn't stop him quickly.
"Teacher must try harder to express herself," he teased.
"Can my favourite student remove his fingers from teachers' pussy, please!" she said in a tremulous voice. This wasn't working for the statement was only adding to her arousal. She was naked on a student's bed begging him to stop fingering her knowing her resistance was fading fast.
"You had better do as I say or else," he grinned, and slapped her ass.
She knew it thrilled him to have his teacher at his mercy and so she would have to play along to get what she needed. Being left alone was the first priority then clothes. Carol felt desperate enough to run home naked.
"Please sir, I need clothes. Thank you, sir," she sighed when he let her go. Carol settled back on the bed letting him take charge for the moment while she struggled to regain some self control. Her legs were firmly pulled together under his disconcerting stare.
"Please, sir, can I have my panties back?" she said. They both broke into a fit of giggles breaking the intensity of the mood. Thank heavens he had been sated for she couldn't take much more. Making love had never been so exciting; it was a pity to give up such exciting sex but it could never happen again.
They heard the front door slam shut damping the sound of raucous young men leaving for an early Friday night out on the town. She looked at him with a meaningful request, her blue eyes wide with expectancy.
"I'll get you some clothes," he said. The simple statement made her heart race with a sense of freedom, of escape; the simplicity of being clothed had come to mean something special. The madness was about to end.
He returned with a cardboard box of feminine clothing when she thought he would bring back a pair of jeans and t-shirt from a larger built friend. The sense of excitement was funny and she laughed out loud.
"Where's my underwear?" she asked.
"I chucked them in the bathroom on the way to his room earlier. They've gone," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.
Dismissing what she thought was a ruse she sorted through the pile of clothes. She held them up then discarded each garment in turn. She leaped up off the bed to hold a skirt before her. "She's shorter than me and slimmer," Carol stated.
She clipped in place the wraparound skirt only just managing to fasten it around her waist. With a sense of pleasure that she could get into a young woman's clothes she grabbed a top from the bed. It wouldn't button up over her large breasts so grabbed a stretchy boob tube.
He watched her stripping in reverse, yet it seemed all the more sexy. Watching his teacher dressing in the clothes he had brought her gave him a feeling of power over this woman of authority. It was fascinating watching the way she pulled at the clothes trying to make them fit over her luscious body.
Carol didn't need a mirror to see how awful she looked. A glance in his direction was no help for the look of lust emphasised what she felt. "Don't you ever look in the mirror? Not even in the mornings? Is there a mirror in the bathroom?" she asked.
"Make sure there's no-one around!" she said.
The bathroom mirror confirmed what she already knew. She looked like a slut. 'I behaved like one now I look like one,' she wailed inside. "This is almost worse than being caught in my underwear," she complained. Looking around the bathroom confirmed what he said, her underwear had gone.
"You look great!" he told her.
Dismissing his opinion she marched upstairs to sort through the underwear. It was at least clean. Nothing seemed substantial enough to wear under the little skirt but pulled on a thong grateful to have her pussy safely tucked away.
The friends' ex-girlfriend obviously didn't need a bra as the tightness of the boob tube testified to her having small breasts. At least it held her in place though running would be out of the question and even a fast walk would have them bouncing around.
"You look fantastic." he encouraged, trying to cheer her up.
"It's more traditional to bring your teacher an apple." She looked down at her large breasts stretching the boob tube to bursting point. She told him, "It would be a good idea to stick to tradition in future."
She looked and felt like a dumb blonde, exactly the image she had always avoided. Her confidence on facing the world was far smaller than just one of those mounds presented in such a vulgar display.
He took her hands in his kissing them tenderly. She couldn't be annoyed with him for her own silly mistake. He took out a pair of expensive sunglass from a back pocket and perched them on her nose.
"A disguise," he announced.
She laughed and reached up to kiss his lips. He took her into his arms and forced her to take his tongue in an unexpected deep kiss. It took her breath away and lightened her mood. 'Nearly home,' she told herself, trying desperately to remain focused.
She looked at him over the rim of the sunglasses to tell him, "Now be a good boy and run your teacher home. No more sex education you've learnt enough," she said with a mock sternness.
"Marks out of ten?" he teased back.
"A plus, well done young man," she congratulated him.
He watched her trying to pull an extra inch or two from the short skirt and failing as he followed her out to the stairs. He grabbed a handful of bum under the skirt and she hissed at him.
"Go look to make sure they've gone." She stood a moment pulling the skirt into place then followed.
He looked up the stairs for a flash of white panties under the flared navy skirt bouncing up with every step.
"Wipe that silly grin and start the car. Wait! Give me a sign if its all clear." She stood at the door looking up and down the street and soon as the engine revved - why did men have to do that -- ran to the back door and dived in.
"Get me safely home Denis, please," she pleaded. This time she studied him in the mirror while he hummed to himself obviously feeling very pleased. She would have to invite him in and talk him back to reality. No more fooling around. They would have to return to the proper relationship between teacher and student.
***
"It's no good. Everywhere is locked up tight," he told her.
"Did you try the kitchen window, I sometimes leave it open to get rid of cooking smells," she asked. The sincere look of concern told her he had tried hard to get in; almost as hard as he had been getting into her.
"Better drive and park up somewhere, one of the neighbours might come over to find out what's going on," she told him. There was a slight excitement to planning breaking in even though it was her house. They felt like Bonny and Clyde.
"If we smash a window the alarm will go off and attract attention. I know a guy who can get in without breaking anything or making a sound," Denis told her.
"Desperation calls for desperate methods," she intoned and imitated one of his shrugs.
***
They pulled up in a seedy looking area of town. "You had better not stay out here. There's no-one you'd know around here so it'll be OK." he reassured her.
Carol reluctantly got out of the car feeling a little better when he gripped her hand tight. She felt like a little girl afraid of the dark with a big brave man taking care of her. While trying to shrug off the feeling they turned a corner onto a brightly lit street where her confidence evaporated.
"I'm not sure about this," she demurred holding him back.
"Its alright, everyone will assume your my girlfriend. You look young enough and you certainly don't look like a teacher," he told her.
She had to agree about not looking like a teacher. She looked like some dumb bimbo and was feeling like one having let all this get so badly out of hand. There was no going back now; he had the car keys and she had lost track of where the car was parked.
No-one pointed an accusing finger at her and they were soon at what seemed to be their destination. Outside the club a couple of Hispanic guys gave her the once over slowly while continuing their conversation in a halting staccato of sounds. A huge slab of a man wearing a dark suit stood in their way.
"She old enough?" he demanded.
"Yea, she's mine, she's cool," Denis said, with nervous tension clearly in his voice.
A large hand gripped her chin taking a closer look at her face. "No Id, no drinking," the big man warned her and stepped aside.
