The Tease 41

Author's Note: All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older.

*****

My name is Karli Hanson, and I'm a tease.

Now I know, I know, I'm the worst, how dare I blah blah blah. But hear me out, OK? Teasing men is a totally victimless crime. Really, where's the harm in bending at the waist, or rocking some short shorts, or going without a bra for a day? It's not as if it's my fault I was born with good genes and I take care of myself. Like, if I were some deuce-and-a-half lardo acting the exact same way, people would just look the other way and not judge me at all.

Unfair double standard, that's what that is.

Besides, it's not like most guys even mind. Hell, the more I tease a guy, the more of it he wants from me - if it was so bad, wouldn't he stop chasing it? Like when I showed up at my math tutor's house in a sports bra and spandex shorts because "I had to run straight here from cheerleading" - he was only too happy to offer me another session, pro bono. When I bent over my Econ teacher's desk and gave him a good eyeful of my barely legal tits while asking for his help on a question, he gave me a little wink and told me the question didn't really matter anyway. So who's really the victim here?

So I get a little thrill out of giving a little thrill. There's worse things to get off on, right? Not like I robbed someone at gunpoint or poisoned the reservoir or something. It's a public service if you think about it. All over school - heck, all over town - there's guys happily whacking off every night while fantasizing about their chance encounter with Karli Hanson. And if I give my own imagination a little fodder for the rub club, then it's just win-win.

OK, I'll admit that maybe lately I've been getting a bit wilder. Is that so bad? Shouldn't women be free to be sexual creatures? Hear me out - you'll see that it's still a pretty NBD kind of thing.

I've been a tease ever since I sprouted, but I guess it's not been until this past summer that I really kicked it into gear. I'm about to be a senior after all, and I just get so bored, you know? I was making up two classes in summer school - ugh, snoozeville - and I found this kid in the grade behind me who was working ahead for advanced credit. Better yet, I think you could see his hard-on from outer frickin' space the day I wore my new cut-off jean shorts.

Easy mark. Mind you, usually it's just some good ol' altruistic teasing, but once in a while I had to take care of my own needs, too. So one day, I go up to geek boy during our break and asked him if he'd be cool ditching class with me to go get high.

O to the MG it was SO obvious he'd never done either of those things before. But I was having a combo hair-day/skin-day, and he was helpless. I dragged him to the girl's room and we just camped out on the couch passing a joint and shooting the shit.

He told me his name was Mark, along a whole bunch of other things I didn't really care about. I just smiled, nodded, giggled when he tried to be funny, and pretended not to notice as his eyes devoured every uncovered square inch of glorious teenage meat on my bones. I think he could even tell I was playing him, honestly, but... sure enough, I didn't even have to say anything. He just asked me if he could tutor me.

"Oh gosh, would you really?!" I exclaimed, batting my lashes and clasping my hands gratefully (while simultaneously mashing my tits together with my biceps). Chump.

Better yet, he kept ditching class with me and brought his own weed! Not that I can't afford it, loaded as my family is, but Daddy is crazy paranoid about drugs and it's way better not to have to hide it from him.

And you know what? Mark's stuff was the mother fucking bomb. Like, my brain just went to a whole 'nother plane, you know? I honestly worried he'd cut it with PCP or something, but he let me check it out and it looked clean. He said his cousin worked for a dispensary so he got this super premium shit on the DL.

Really, it was a pretty fun routine we fell into. Show up to class, hang out for the first half of the day to score our attendance points, then jet for the second to get stoned off my ass while Mark ogled me. He was such a talker, too - I'd be off in La La Land and he'd just be yammering on at me the whole time. About Econ stuff, I guess, but I never remembered any of it.

Still, I guess after a couple weeks I started feeling a little bad using him. I'm a tease, not a total cunt, right? I told him we should probably knock it off for a while (meaning forever, obvs) and he could save his stash for himself.

Only by now, Mark had seen enough flashed panty and stupendous cleavage that he didn't want to let go. Ugh, the dweeb totally begged me to do one more party with him, and well, I guess I just felt like it'd be a good chance to say goodbye to that amazing cheeba of his while he said goodbye to my bod.

So I told him, straight up. "Look Mark, I'm never gonna fuck you, OK? Don't think you can buy my pussy with weed. We do this, but this is just saying goodbye, right?"

He nodded, but I could tell it stung. Still, better that than stringing him along right? I'm not a total cunt, after all. Besides, it was SO annoying having guys trail along behind you like a flock of baby ducklings. Eventually, you either have to feed the ducklings or step on their little faces to shut them up.

But dude, did we ever say our farewells. He gave me a whole bowl to smoke, all by myself. I didn't figure I'd make it, but man, I just sort of blacked out for a while and came to with the thing gone. We'd been in that bathroom for like four hours. The school was totally silent, everybody gone home but us.

"Hey, sorry about that," I said sleepily as I steadied myself.

"It's cool, Karli. Strong stuff, right? Goes right to your head."

That was the damn truth. I was still feeling pretty giddy. Like right then, Mark was totally just staring right at where my tits were bulging out of my tank top - usually I get peevish when I'm not even trying to invite attention, but this time... damn it all to hell if I didn't feel myself getting wet just from having his eyes on me.

That was some fucking good weed.

Then I looked down at my phone, just to make sure my mom wasn't wigging out about me not coming home or checking in. She'd texted, so I wrote back and told her I'd gotten caught up with a study group and was on my way home. The whole time, Mark just sat there next to me, looking right down my top. I held still for him - why not give the guy a thrill?

The attention felt good, after all, and not like he hadn't earned at least a peek.

Still, it was time to get going. "Thanks again for that, I said to Mark as we exited the bathroom. I was looking around carefully in case there was somebody around to bust us. Mark was just looking at my ass.

"No problem. A nice way to top off a great summer session," he said.

Now look. I know he didn't mean it, but... somehow, in his casual comment the phrase "top off" just leapt out at me, like he'd stressed it or something. I giggled at the thought of it, how crazy it'd be to give nerdy Mark the thrill of a lifetime. There was no one around, right?

With a quick final glance to make sure we were alone, I grabbed the bottom of my tank top and pulled it off over my head, smirking at Mark's shocked expression as my bra-covered tits emerged into the open.

Well, not as shocked as I thought he'd be, I guess. Still, he was definitely pleased, I could tell. Weirdly, so was I. The way he looked at me sent a stream of little tingles down to my crotch.

"Nice tits you got there, Karli," he said with surprisingly casualness.

"Thanks!" I chirped, just standing there, being watched.

"Almost as nice as I thought they'd be."

My jaw dropped, and I planted my hands on my hips indignantly. "Almost! These are some grade A boobs!"

"Yeah, I was more hoping for some grade double D," he said.

Now mind you, I was a D cup, but still, rude! "Well if they're not up to your standards, then maybe I'll just put them away. See how you like them apples."

Mark just kept staring. And staring. "So... why don't you?" he asked finally.

A fair question, I suppose. The truth was that I was getting more and more turned on the longer he looked at me. I couldn't say that though. "I am. As soon as we get to the doors, then they go bye-bye." There, a compromise.

He shrugged, and followed me down the school's corridors to the exit to the parking lot. The whole time, he was looking sideways at my boobs, and I think I was as conscious of every bounce, every jiggle, as he was. God I must look so fucking hot. He's going to jerk off to this memory for the rest of his fucking life.

We reached the exit sooner than I wanted to. I paused at the door, tank top in hand, trying to muster the will to cover them. I don't know how long we stood there, him staring and me being stared at, but he was the one who had to break up the moment. "All right, Karli. It's been fun - guess I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"Yeah, that's right - and you'll only see me fully clothed from here on out, buster."

"Yep. Guess it's time to kiss those puppies goodbye."

Mmm. I mean, I know he didn't actually mean it that way, but the image just hit me like a wave of sexy. Talk about quality teasing - he'd be blue-balled for a month if I... if I just...

"OK," I said, folding my arms behind my back, my tits thrust forward. "Do it."

He arched an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"What you said. Kiss 'em goodbye."

"That was an idiom, Karli. I didn't actually mean it."

Holy shit. Here I am, offering him the mouthfuls of a lifetime, and he's trying to teach me the difference between literal and figurative. "I mean it."

He didn't hesitate long - maybe I didn't have double D's, quite, but they were damn fine tits. Mark cupped a hand around each, squeezing them and pressing them together, and put his mouth to the bare skin above my bra. His lips were wet and warm, but when his tongue slid out to caress them, it was infinitely more so.

The way he was boosting them even let my nipples peek out of my bra halfway. I should've said something, had him stop. You see, I have crazy sensitive nips, and the moan I let out when he started lapping and sucking at what my bra let him access left no doubt how I felt about it.

Then he stopped. I almost fell into him, I was trying so hard to keep Mark's mouth on me. "Wow. Thanks, Karli. You wanna maybe go back to my place, and...?"

I laughed. "Not on your life, Mark. Like I told you earlier - I'm not gonna fuck you. This was just me being grateful, saying goodbye." I mean, I was horny out of my fucking mind, and there was definitely lubrication trickling threatening to trickle out of my shorts any moment now.

Still, I'm a tease - not a whore.

He nodded. "All right. But if you ever change your mind, wanna smoke some more, just let me know."

"Yeah, sure. And thanks for the tutoring." I smiled, and headed out to my car.

"Um, Karli?" he called after me.

I rolled my eyes. Don't make this awkward, geek boy. "What is it, Mark?"

"Your top's still off."

Oh. "Thanks, Mark."

I must've had a dozen orgasms that night as I relived the afternoon. Just stripping my shirt off without warning. In the middle of the hallway. Parading around school topless. Letting a guy make out with my boobs just for the hell of it.

Mmm, and the way he stared at them. Helpless to look away.

Make that a dozen and one.

When I woke up the next morning, I rubbed one more out for good measure before I got out of bed. Then another in the shower, thinking about how Mark would flip his shit if he could see me, wet and naked, knuckle-deep in puss.

As I picked out my wardrobe, I went a little further than usual. After all, I only had a few more days of summer school, then who knows when I'd be able to tease him again. I decided to go for a classic girl next door look. Denim shorts as brief as I thought I could get away with. Scoop neck red polka dot tank top with mid-riff exposed to show off my cute little naval piercing. Bright red lipstick. A pair of platform sandals.

And of course, pig tails.

None of it was all that outlandish or even especially unusual for me - all of it was stuff I wore out in public. Just usually not at the same time. Together, it created an ensemble no red-blooded male could avoid noticing. I'd never wear it to class during the regular year, but in summer school, they barely cared about the dress code.

I came to class thirty seconds late, just so everyone would already be settled and get a good eyeful. I knew of at least three couples in the room, and I wondered how many of the guys would get a blowjob tonight to keep their attention off of me and on their girlfriends. Even Mr. Hendricks did a double-take as I gave a quiet apology and made my way to an open seat next to Mark, right where I was sure I could give him a good eyeful.

Did he ever. I didn't hear a word Mr. Hendricks was saying that day. All I was aware of were his eyes on me. He didn't even care if he was obvious about it - he saw it, he liked it, he was going to see more of it. My kind of guy.

To tease, that is. I mean, clearly I was out of this loser's league.

Eventually, Mr. Hendricks noticed his distractedness. It was totally my fault of course, but not like he could say "Karli, please cover your titties." So instead he went after the victim and did that most classic of teacher moves, asking a kid a question when they clearly weren't paying attention. I didn't even catch what he asked - I was just twirling a pig tail with my finger.

Egghead that he was, Mark could evidently split his attention between my body and the lecture. He answered without hesitating, "trickle-down economics."

More like trickle down my inner thighs. Though really, I was just mad at Mr. Hendricks for distracting my plaything.

The teacher still wasn't mollified, intent on squeezing him a little. He asked some kind of follow-up that I barely comprehended.

Mark was undaunted. "Oh, you know the Keynesians, Mr. Hendricks, they won't stop moaning about it until everything with Reagan's name on it is torn down and burned." Apparently this was enough to satisfy Mr. Hendricks, who chuckled at whatever joke had been embedded in that gibberish and decided his star pupil was still his star pupil.

Myself, I just heard one word in that whole mess. Moaning.

Oh shit, that would be hot. Guys have always told me I have a perfect phone sex voice, just a little high-pitched and a lot of breathy. One time I'd made a guy I was dating cum in his pants with his mom in the driver's seat beside him just by talking dirty with him. (Told ya I was a tease.)

Oh, it was too delicious not to.

I took a deep breath, and made a sound I've rehearsed that's the perfect distance between bliss and agony. "Oh my god," I punctuated it, then slathered on a little more on the far end. The noise ended in a high-pitched sound that could really only be called a whimper.

The whole class was staring at me as I rubbed my thighs together, my cleavage enhanced by a little pressure on either side from my biceps. Mark was staring too, grinning broadly at my little verbal orgasm.

"Is... everything all right, Ms. Hanson?" Mr. Hendricks asked.

I smiled innocently at him. "I'm sorry, just... you gotta admit, this stuff is SO boring, right? Come on, you have to be wishing you could be out at the pool right now as much as the rest of us." I grinned innocently. I wondered if he was hard behind that podium. If he'd go home tonight and think about screwing one of his student's brains out. If he'd cum from the echo of that noise bouncing around inside his skull.

As for my classmates, there was no question. I could actually see half a dozen erections without straining my eyes, and plenty more were trying to hide them awkwardly.

Not Mark though. He was hard and could give two fucks if I saw it. Maybe he was a little like me in that way. That was so fucking hot.

"I'm aware economics isn't exactly a day at the beach, but we have the final exam in two days. So maybe you can do everyone a favor and pretend to be interested, hmm? This may not be much use between you, Mr. Howell and the Skipper, but here in the real world, this stuff matters."

The class laughed at his little dig at my outfit politely, and around me I heard a few people using the noise to mask some comments. Somewhere a girl called me a slut; a guy said something about wishing he'd recorded that; another guy said they couldn't wait until I dropped out of school and started stripping.

I didn't care. People always said that stuff when they were jealous and pissed off they couldn't have you. I was just looking at Mark in the next row, so I could very clearly hear his words, even mumbled as they were.

"Damn girl, keep it in your pants."

My god, the boy just had to keep giving me ideas for how to torture him! I waited a couple minutes until class was back in full swing, my peers mostly trying not to fall asleep. Even Mark looked kinda tired. I guess I'd kept him up late, eh? I giggled to myself.

So I waited until I was sure he was looking, then folded my hands in my lap casually. While he watched, I crept one of them back and slowly undid the button on my shorts. They were way too tight for this to work otherwise.

Ha - that woke the poor guy up. Later on as he was jacking it until he chafed, no doubt he'd wish he slept through this. Not my problem!

With the button down, I painstakingly began working on the zipper. Concealing the noise was tricky; the classroom was mostly quiet except for the AC blowing and Mr. Hendricks yammering on about who the fuck cared what. Every millimeter was a battle, the zipper creeping down, down, down, until the front part of my panties was good and exposed.

Mark licked his lips. I remembered the feel of that tongue on my nipples yesterday and hazarded a little rub at my mound. I could feel my fingernail teasing my skin through the thin fabric of my panties.

This was all the farther I planned to go (like I keep saying, I'm not a total slut), but the way he was watching me, the way I could tell every little movement of my finger against my panties was burning into his brain... well, I couldn't help myself.

I went lower. The zipper was opened all the way now, but as tight as my shorts were I had to really push to get my finger where I needed it. Down across my pubic mound, across my swollen clitoris, right up into my slit.

I was gushing. My juices were soaked right through my underwear and flooding into the denim of my shorts. If I stood up right now, there would probably be a wet spot on my seat.

Somehow, I could tell from the wolfish look on his face that Mark knew. That he could see on my face how wet my finger was getting as I began easing it between my lips. Up and down the slit, then a little pressure in a swirl against my clit. Again, and again, and again. Little by little, my panties were creeping up inside me as I pressed on them, wishing desperately I hadn't worn the stupid things so I could do get myself off properly.

Well, not really. But to make him think I was. To tease him.

And all the while, he was watching me. Staring at this sexy little piece of ass, diddling herself in the back of the classroom, her cunt dripping all over her desk chair, squirming with need, her every breath a battle not to betray a clandestine pussy raid.

Knowing he could look but never touch. Just look and look.

I guess I must've gotten carried away, because somewhere between budget deficits and regressive taxes there was a teenage girl heaving a deep sigh and slumping forward across her desktop as her pussy rippled in sweet release. My juices flooded my panties and positively soaked my right hand. The cool surface of the desktop against the exposed part of my breasts was a delicious contrast to the waves of heat radiating out of my cunt.